


Looking Into Your (My) Eyes

by stellar_astrophel



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Body Swap, Body Swap AU, Boyf reinds, Dont be afraid to give critique kiddos, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Rich's lisp is a thing btw, Slow Burn, Sorry i love body swaps and need to make it 100x more awkward than it needs to be, Takes place around 5 months after events in the musical, The kiddos are friends, first fic, richjake and pinkberry could be seen if you want to see it as such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-22 00:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellar_astrophel/pseuds/stellar_astrophel
Summary: In which Jeremy Heere and Michael Mell swap bodies for unknown (and probably SQUIP-related) reasons. Shanigains and hilarity ensue because of it.----------The first chapter is only Jer and Mikey but all the others will come with a purpose to the story.----------This is my first fic! I didn't see any BMC body swap stories yet so I drafted the story out and... H(e)ere we are.....





	1. Prologues, Screaming, and Shocked Boys

* * *

 

**_PROLOGUE_ **

* * *

  
  
     Jeremy scanned his bedroom, taking in every detail.  
  
     The soft drizzle of late night April rain outside paired with the almost muted (and somewhat cheesy) Apocalypse of the Damned sound effects went together a lot nicer than Jeremy would've thought. It was dark, the only sources of light being the moon from outside his window and the bright light from the TV. Artificial and natural light mixed to give everything around him a soft, heavenly glow. Honestly, it was...  
  
      _Perfect_.  
  
     Scoffing quietly at his own sappiness, he couldn't resist smirking to the truth laced beind the thought.  
  
     At that moment, Jeremy had all he could ever want: Beautiful late nights, a shit ton of snacks, a good video game, and his _favorite person_ in the beanbag next to him. The one and only, Michael Mell.  
  
     The two were silent for once, but it wasn't a bad kind of silence. When playing stage after stage for hours on end, two teen boys could only talk about so much. Eventually, a hush had fallen over them, and neither felt like breaking it.  
  
   Jeremy steals a glance while the next level loads up.  
  
     Michael seems dead focused on the TV. His eyes are obscured by his too-big glasses reflecting the screen not two feet in front of him. Jeremy can't help but spiral down his train of thoughts.  
  
     Ever since the now dubbed "SQUIP-cident" not even 5 months ago, he felt a stonger need than ever to stick close to Michael's side, no matter what.  
  
     Michael Mell, best friend for 12 years and counting.  
  
     Michael Mell, the kid who saved everyone from a demonic super computer Jeremy Heere had put in his head for selfish reasons.  
  
     Michael Mell, the boy who still somehow stands to be with local loser Jeremy Heere.  
  
     Michael Mell, who Jeremy Heere _knows_ for a fact is still hurt from the Halloween party, yet is adamant about avoiding the issue for as long as he can.  
  
     The silence now almost feels defaning to Jeremy as he grips his "Player 2" themed controller tightly and pulls his attention to the game once again. He doesn't want to ruin this night.  
  
     However, it didn't last much longer.  
  
      Midway through the stage, a **BZZT** rips through the cold air and Jeremy feels a shock pulse from his fingertips to his scalp and toes. He unknowingly rips out a scream, and hears another voice screaming along with him.  
  
     _Michael!_  
  
     Michael shrieks along, and looks like he's in pain too. The "Player 1" controller he held before clatters to the floor, followed by Michael with a pathetic yell and a thud.  
  
    "N-no!" Jeremy squeaks, but he is too wrapped up in his own hurt to do anything other than fall onto the wood tile along with his buddy.  
  
     The edges of his eyesight are swimming with darkness, and he looks over to Michael one last time, who is laying limp on the ground just behind the opposing side of his bed, no longer screaming.  
  
     Jeremy lets out one final yelp before closing his eyes, twitching to the mind-numbing pins and needles sensation still dancing about his body.  
  
     Then everything goes black.  
  
_Thank god dad isn't home yet to hear all this._

* * *

**_CHAPTER ONE_**    

* * *

 

  
     The last thing Michael remembers was screaming about... _something_ , and falling asleep on the floor.  
  
_Ugh, my back's gonna regret that..._  
  
     He slowly opens his eyes, letting them adjust to the sunlight pouring through the window. The bedside clock on Jeremy's nightstand is hard to see from the tile, but Michael makes out the time: 6:17 in the goddamn morning. Two hours until they gotta drive to school.  
  
     Not wanting to get up just yet, he studies the dust particles dancing about the sunbeams. Then blows the hair out of his eyes.  
  
     _Then_ acesses what he's doing.  
  
     He studied the insainely small dust and dirt... _without his glasses_.  
  
     He blowed his hair, _that isn't long enough to fall into his face,_ out of his face.  
  
     _What. The. FUCK?!_  
  
     Michael feels his breath hitch and the sweat begin to form on his forehead. He stumbles upright, only to fall backward when _the ground seems much further down than usual,_ sending him right into the shelf of video game memorabilia. Luckily, he catches himself on the shelf. Unluckily for half the games and figures on the shelf, they crash down onto the floor.  
  
      _I can't reach Jeremy's top shelf._  
  
_I'm hanging on to Jeremy's top shelf._  
  
_I CAN'T REACH JEREMY'S TOP SHELF!_  
  
     An effort to breathe is abruptly stopped when Michael catches sight of his arms.  
  
     The arms holding onto the shelf are skinnier than he remembers his own, devoid of any bracelets, and, oh yeah, _pale as hell._  
  
_Bearing a striking resemblance to..._  
  
_What kind of nightmare is this?!_  
  
    Before he can think, Michael fumbles and trips his way over to Jeremy's bathroom, and dunks his head in running water before he can catch his reflection. The cool water helps him at least get himself breathing and thinking. Not daring himself to move just yet, he twists the faucet off and keeps his head inside the sink.  
  
_Alright,_ he thinks. _In.. And out... Breathe... Breathe! This is all just some kind of dream. Or hallucination. Did I just get REALLY high and not remember? Whatever. I'm going to look into the mirror, look at the reflection of Michael Mell, and then go about my day as usual. Okay, breathe._  
  
     He closes his eyes tight, and stands upright. He takes one big deep breath in, opens his eyes and stares into the mirror.  
  
     Jeremiah Heere stares back.  
  
     Michael screams as loud as he can, but only hears Jeremy's recognizable (read: high-pitched) scream come out of his mouth.  
  
     "What the FUCKING SHIT?!" He (Jeremy?) screams into the mirror, reflection copying. His breathing is back to huffs and puffs, so he takes the time to study himself while he tries to keep himself conscious.  
  
     He looks _exactly_ like Jeremy. Hell, if it was possible, he _was_ Jeremy now. His eyes flow from the mirror to his own self, down to Jeremy's feet that move when he moves. Tall, lanky, and awkward.  
  
      _Yep, I'm Jeremy._  
  
     Michael doesn't know if he wants to scream, cry, or laugh at the obscureness of it all.  
  
      His mind decides to laugh. He laughs at Jeremy's face, looking disheveled, terrified, and tired, still wet from the sink. He laughs at Jeremy's laugh, because he _adores it_ and he just can't stop. He laughs becase _god, this is so fucking weird, but I'm not in panic mode anymore._  
  
     "JEEEEREEEMYYYYY!" A voice booms from the other side of the wall. "SOME OF US WORKED A LATE SHIFT AND WANT TO SLEEP!"  
  
     "Sorry, Mr. He-..." he stops when he hears Jeremy's vocal chords speaking for him. "...dad?" He finishes cautiously, and takes a thudding noise from outside as the end of the conversation. He sighs... already deciding that he shouldn't go tell everyone.  
  
      _Except for Jeremy, of course. He'll know what- JEREMY._  
  
     He thinks long and hard before coming to the conclusion. He is in Jeremy's body. Where would his be?  
  
     "Christ," he mutters to himself. "Guess I better wake 'im," he starts to head back into Jeremy's room, but groans at the bulk of wavy hair that found itself barely laying over his right eye. Michael searches the room.

     "Aha!" He picks up a small black bobby pin (probably left by Christine)  and pins the locks of hair down right on top of Jeremy's head. He takes one last look at his reflection. The pin in Jeremy's hair makes it fly in every other direction, but, hey, it's out of the way and Michael doesn't feel like learning to style it.

     Michael slowly makes his way into the bedroom, no longer terrified, but still on edge.  
  
    He catches sight of the clock. 7:02 AM. Not running late. Yet.  
  
_Ah, god, I forgot about school!_  
  
    He doesn't get the chance to analyze going to school when he finally finds the person laying face down on the floor between the wall and Jeremy's bed. Wearing his hoodie.  
  
_God, this is weird as all fuck._  
  
     He kneels down by his own face ( _That's my fucking face!_ ). He holds back a scream, not wanting to have Jeremy freak more than he already will. Slowly, he presses his own Michael-As-Jeremy arm to wake up a sleeping Jeremy-As-Michael. How he didn't wake up to the screaming is beyond him.  
  
     _God, he could sleep through a nuclear war._  
  
_Is this really how I look to everyone?_  
  
_Is this what Jer sees? Huh, my glasses really ARE big._  
  
_Eugh, do I always drool in my sleep?!_  
  
     Finally, after what seems to be a lifetime of shaking Jeremy, he starts to stir.  
  
      "Hey, bud, this is Mikey. It's gonna be weird for you to see, but."  
  
      Jeremy, unbeknownst to what's going on, scrunches up his face ( _I should never do that,_ Michael notes) and bats Michael away.  
  
     "Jer-Bear, you gotta get up, man!" He says, louder this time.  
  
      "No, I don't-" he's cut off by his own, _Michael's_ , voice. He blinks, slowly.  
  
     "Nnnnoooooo..." Jeremy repeats, dragging out the word to hear Michael drone on in his place. He sits up a little, and immediately catches notice of the hoodie. Michael starts to reach over to Jeremy, who looks on the verge of panic, but Jeremy jerks back to rub his eyes with a gasp. His efforts are blocked by the glasses in his way, still askew from sleeping with them on. Jeremy's mouth hangs open, while Michael watches with sympathy, biting his lip (And stops with a soft blush when he remembers it's Jeremy's).  
  
     Pretty soon, Jeremy's now huge almond eyes ( _I never knew I could look so scared!_ ) Meets his own sky blue ones that now belong to Michael. Taking in the sight, his eyes grow even bigger with fear and panic starting to bubble up his throat and through his body.  
  
    "Uhm, okay, don't scream, Jer!" Michael starts, gripping Jeremy's shoulders ( _Damn, my shoulders are soft)_. "Your dad already yelled at me, so, don't yell, it's fine, don't-,"  
  
    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"  


     Instinctively, Michael flings himself on top of Jeremy ( _Okay, maybe I'm just a soft person?_ Michael thinks) and covers his mouth with a hand. Michael shakes his head to urge Jeremy to quiet down but the muffled screams still rage on for a long while. Michael keeps the hand on his face so Jeremy doesn't startle Mr. Heere again. Nonetheless, he decides it's best for Jeremy go get all the panic and shrieking out now, like he had.

     He goes on for a few more minutes, and by then Jeremy is all out of screaming power. Michael cautiously moves his hand away.

    The two stay on the floor, Jeremy now scanning over his body, running hands through his hair, then advancing to feel the piercings on Michael's ears, turning a dark shade of red when brushing across the back of his neck.

     "What... Hell... W-what, M-Michael?" Jeremy struggles to give a full sentence, still offset by his newfound lower voice.

     "Well,  just so you know, I never thought I could scream that high... Or loud!" Michael chuckles.

     "Sh-Shut up! How come y-you're not losing your mind?" 

      "I woke up, like, an hour ago, I already had my panic attack."

     Jeremy goes to get up, and Michael follows. He sways a little getting used to the different weight distribution, but stays on his feet thanks to Michael's aid. They both step back when Michael has to glance slightly downward to meet eyes with Jeremy, and Jeremy having to tilt his head up to see Michael. 

      "Well,  _I'm_ freaked," Jeremy 

     "Bro, you think I'm not?!"

     That earns a laugh from Jeremy.

     "My laugh sounds hella weird"

     "My voice sounds hella weird. This whole th-thing..."

     "Is hella fuckin' weird?" Michael suggests with a weak laugh.

     "Yeah," 

     Awkward silence begins to fall, and Michael doesn't want to deal with it.

     "That's a Jeremy Face,"

     "H-huh?"

    "You're making a Jeremy 'I'm so scared and awkward and have no idea what to do' face. Classic Jeremy. Only on me. Weird." Michael jokingly takes a step back.

     "Like you don't have a Michael Face?!" Jeremy retorts, with an attempted light punch to the arm.

     "Ow, dude!" Michael rubs the side of his arm, he sees it already start to redden a bit from the impact.

     "Sorry!"

     "JEREMIAH HEERE! I'M NOT LETTING YOU SKIP SCHOOL AGAIN JUST TO PLAY VIDEO GAMES! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE!" A beat of silence. "THAT GOES FOR YOU,TOO, MICHAEL. I WANT YOU BOTH UPSTAIRS FOR BREAKFAST IN TEN."

_Shit._

* * *

 

 


	2. Breakfast, Bobby Pins, and Hoodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys make it to school...barely.

* * *

 

**_CHAPTER TWO_ **

* * *

 

     School, huh?

     Neither Jeremy or Michael thought that could happen without ending in misery.

     "Ugh, come on, y-you heard  _your dad,"_ Jeremy groaned, "We got ten minutes to...get...d-dressed..." He trailed off, and proceeded to dramatically flop over face-first onto the mattress with a louder groan.

     In said face plant, he forgot he had Michael's face, and, therefore, his glasses.

     "OW!"

     "Dude," Michael winces, very familiar with the feeling of those things digging into his face, "If you break my glasses, I swear to god," 

     "Argh, they're fine," Jeremy pulls them off and inspects them. "Wow, you really can't see for  _shit,_ man!"

     "They're not a fashion statement, Jer. And you able-visioned people don't know how good you got it," Michael replies with a laugh. Jeremy only waves him off and stands up again.

     "So!" Michael continues, "School?"

    "How are we gonna get dressed?" Jeremy squeaks.

     Michael occupies himself by rummaging through Jeremy's dressers and pulling out a faded _Star Wars_ t-shirt. "How we normally do? I have a change of clothes in my backpack. Ehrm, you take the bathroom. I still gotta find myself jeans that'll fit."

     "They're all gonna fit, Michael. They're mine." Jeremy says with a reddened face and a scoff, Michael's backpack in hand.

      "Oh! Right."

     Jeremy pauses before entering the bathroom, trying to hide his embarrassment. He doesn't do that very well.

     "Come on, dude! Like we _haven't_ seen each other's junk before."

     "We were  _six!"_ Jeremy shuts the bathroom door behind him mid-sentence.

"Stop making my voice crack!"

* * *

 

     Jeremy scurries out the bathroom to see Michael wearing Jeremy's practically trademarked jeans, shoes, and navy cardigan, (not to mention his  _physical form)._ That throws him off for a second, understandably so. But he's thrown for another loop when Michael has his hoodie,  _his_ red hoodie, halfway on him. Michael doesn't have it over his head just yet, thin arms hopelessly flailing to get through the now _exremely_  oversized sleeves.

      _Wow, I really AM a beanpole._

"Mikey, you can't wear the hoodie!"

     "Huh?" His head pops into view, and Jeremy sees that his headphones rest around his neck, too. Michael dismisses his worry with a halfhearted thumbs-up. "Pssh, I'll take it of in the parking lot. Stop worrying, Jer-Bear! That won't do us any good." Jeremy only pats his shoulder in acceptance and leads them both to the bedroom door.

     "And," Michael adds, reaching his arm upwards, pausing as if to say  _"Oops,"_ and then swings it back downward to meet Jeremy's shorter shoulder, "It's not like I'd go to school without my hoodie, right?"

     The two waltz out the door.

      _Right._

* * *

    "Okey-dokey, boys, I got toast n' scrambled eggs!" Mr. Heere yelled into the hall, coffee in hand and his mood from earlier infinitely lightened.

     "What're we gonna do about your dad?! He knows you as good as I do!" Michael whisper-yells as they enter the living room, swiping up Jeremy's backpack from the dining table.

     "We're gonna get outta here as fast as we can," Jeremy replies, adjusting the glasses and standing straight. "Ahem...M-Mr. Heere?"

     The older man swings around from the stove, mouth filled with toast. He muffles a questioning "Mm?"

     Jeremy blanks out for a moment. "Thanks for the..." He eyes the severly undercooked eggs already plated and sitting on the counter. "...hearty breakfast, but w-we can't eat it, a-as a matter of fact Mic- ugh,  _Jeremy_ and I have to skedaddle!"

    "'Skedaddle'?" Michael murmurs just loud enough for his recently shorter bestie to hear. Jeremy only has time to give him a glance before Mr. Heere gets suspicious.

    "Why? I mean, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, y'know! Now give me one good reason you don't want a bite of this." He chuckles. Recently, Mr. Heere has owned the whole "dad that tries his best" role. Jeremy and Michael almost jump out of fear trying to forge an answer, and end up blurting out a different excuse simultaneously.

     "WE'RE FASTING!"

     "W-WE'RE DONATING BLOOD!"

     Michael not-so-subtlely elbows Jeremy and continues to answer.

     "What he means is, we're fasting because we're donating blood! Okayifwedon'tgonowwewillbeLATEBYE!" He yells out in a single breath, begining to shove Jeremy towards the front door. He's momentarily stopped because  _god, why does Jer have to have such weak arms?!_ But Jeremy gets the idea and starts to rush away too.

     "Wait, boys! Something's not adding up..."

     The two stop dead in their tracks. Michael starts to rock on his heels and Jeremy picks at something imaginary under his nail.

     "You're _supposed_ to eat a heathy meal before a donation, bone-heads!" Mr. Heere gives a grin and holds a hand out towards the table, inviting them to sit once more.

    "W-we, u-uhm-"

    "WE HAVE A SPECIAL BREAKFAST TO GO TO! WITH ALL OUR FRIENDS!" Michael almost shouts, causing Jeremy's vocal chords to conveniently crack on "friends". Jeremy nudges him and gives a quick whisper, "Volume!"

    "Well, why didn't you guys just say so! Y'know, you don't have to hide anything from your old man, Jeremy,"

      _Oh, the irony._

     "Right." Michael nods, opening the front door. "Can we go now?" Mr. Heere takes one more step closer and raises an eyebrow.

    "Of course, kiddo."

   They both let out a breath they didn't know they were holding and make it halfway through the door.

     "But... One more thing."

      _Shit._

"What's with the bobby pin, Jer?"

     Michael runs a hand through Jeremy's hair to find the bobby pin still tucked into it, and he groans. Jeremy has to stand on tiptoes to notice it, and crosses his arms.

     "Yeah, why is there a bobby pin there,  _Jeremy?_ "

    "My hair got in my face!" still propping the door open, he swiftly yanks at it to throw it into the lawn, reviving weary looks before yanking Jeremy out the door, ignoring his protest, and screams back to Mr. Heere. "BUT IT'S GONE NOW AND THERE'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT SO BYE MR-UGH-DAD!"

     And with that, he slams the door.

     Mr. Heere can only take another sip of his coffee from his mug.

     "'Mr. Dad'? Huh. Teens,"

* * *

 

     On the way to school, it's subconsciously decided that it was to be treated as any other day. Michael hops into the driver's seat (not commenting on how he had to adjust the seat to accommodate Jeremy's legs) and blasts some Bob Marley song and sets off towards the school, only 5 minutes away by car. Jeremy studies the passing telephone lines and cars, his reflection, the pale blue cloudless sky, anything in hopes of not ruining the mood.

     However, the mood doesn't last long, because they pull into the school parking lot way too soon. Michael was planning to let his song finish before turning off the car. But then shuts it off immediately upon parking.

    "Dude. 12 o'clock,"

     Jeremy follows his gaze to see none other than Rich and Jake jogging up to the PT Cruiser from the school gates.

    "Shit-" he turns to look at Michael, "THE HOODIE!" Jeremy practically shouts with a gasp.

    Their friends are now halfway to them, and Michael hasn't even gotten it off yet.

     "Get it off!" Jeremy hisses with worry, reaching over to help but really only gives Michael more obstacles to battle.

     "I'M  _TRYING!_ IT'S HARD TO MAUNUVER YOUR BONY-ASS ARMS IN A HURRY!" He finally flings it off and thrusts it into Jeremy's lap, who starts his struggle to get it onto himself.

     Jeremy pulls his arms through rather quickly and begins to pull it over his head, glasses falling into his lap in the process.

     "Oh! It'll be  _fine, stop worrying, Jer-Bear!"_ He begins to mock his friends words, popping his head through the hoodie and flails around two thumbs-up for effect.

     "Kinda  _not_ the time, dude!" Michael starts, pointing out the window. But Jeremy feels like he's on a roll, so he twists his head over to Michael and gives him a small grin.

     "You're  _right,_ I don't have to mock you if I  _am- RICH!"_

Jeremy finally notices the shorter dirty blonde just outside his window, along with Jake, who peers into Michael's car with a stare that is somewhere between confused and concerned.

      "Heeeeeeey, Rich! And J-jake!" Jeremy begins, forcing himself to laugh. He places an elbow on the open window and puts his head in his hand, showing off Michael's armbands and bracelets. "H-how's it-," His elbow slips, "going?!"

     "You guyth are fucking crazy thometimes." Rich breaks the silence, his lisp prominent on most of his "S's". After giving Rich a light shove, Jake adds on.

     "What he's trying to say, is, 'what's up with you'? Is something wrong, Michael?"

    Jeremy turns to face his friend, but when he faces himself giving a worried, impatient, stare, he remembers Jake is addressing  _him._

_"_ N-no?"

     "Man, Jere wath wearing your fuckin' hoodie. That never happenth!" Rich waves his arms around to enunciate his point.

     "W-well..."

     "I WAS JUST COLD!" Michael hollers into the parking lot, unbuckling his seatbelt and practically leaning on top of Jeremy to convince the others. "Yeah!" Jeremy provides a more believable laugh.

     "You get it, with how frail and weak my bod is-," he playfully smirks towards Jeremy, "sweet  _Michael_ here lent me it for the ride to school only!" Satisfied with his tale, He smoothens out Jeremy's cardigan and leans back in his seat.

     Jake flashes an innocent smile, "That's, like, the longest I've heard you go without stuttering, Jer!" Michael doesn't really know how to respond, so he can only shrug.

     The morning bell cuts through the warm spring air.

      "Ah, shit, Rich and I gotta bounce."

     "Firtht period partner prethentation!" Rich cheers, tugging on Jake's sleeve. Jake leans into the car once more, staring both of the swapped boys down.

      "Are you... _sure..._ like, absolutely positive... nothing is wrong?"

     Forcing a nod, Jeremy tries his hardest to find the empty Slurpee cup on the floor interesting. Michael fiddles with his car keys and nods as well, not daring to break eye contact.

     A moment passeses.

     Then another.

     And one more.

     "Whelp," Jake does his remarkable grin, and skips away to catch up with Rich, who's waving him down by the gate. "Catch you guys at lunch!"

      Michael and Jeremy share a worried glance.

     "You have to stop stuttering if you're gonna play a convincing me!"

     "You need to _start_ stuttering! And stop yelling!" Jeremy dramatically hits his forehead onto the dashboard, glasses going askew.

     "W-we are so  _fucked._ "

     Michael lays a hand on Jeremy's back and rubs for a second before replying.

     "Hey, it's Friday. We have the whole weekend to fix it. And I swear, bro, we  _will_ fix it." 

     Jeremy sits up, eyes red from choked-back tears. He sniffles. "We still gotta get through today, Mikey!" He starts to breathe heavier, so Michael turns his body to face him before Jeremy can panic any more than he already has.

     "Look at me, dude!"

     Jeremy stares intently once he wipes his face with the hoodie, avoiding any patches that could've found their way onto the sleeves.

     "You play characters in drama _all_ the time, right? Just, erm, pretend this day is one big play, and you're playing me. Get  _really_ into character!" Michael gives him a shake to his shoulders on "really", getting a small giggle for the encouragement. "Look, it's hard. And it's _fucking_   _bat shit insane_ that this happened. So, just try and make it until lunch, okay, Jeremy?"

     Jeremy nods and they get out of the car, not leaving the other until they have to go to different classes at the end of the hall.

      "Good, luck in there, Player One," Jeremy gives a small wave.

      "Break a leg, Player Two." Michael winks and chuckles softly.

     _The only problem with pretending it's a play, it's that you realize you have no script._

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WILL GIVE YOU MY FIRSTBORN TO READ THE NOTES!!!  
> \----------  
> Look I love Jakey D as much, if not more than anyone else but I like to think he can be a little...naiive.  
> \-----------  
> Hello Lovelies! I know I said I want to wait to post the next chapter but guess who has uncontrollable impulses and wrote the next chapter!!?!?!? /This/ GAAAAAL!  
> \----------  
> Next chapter the whole "keeping up the charade" thing will start to die down because the squad (or a portion of it) is gonna find out   
> Veeeeewy sooon..... (sorry im just really exited for this story!! Heheh)  
> \----------  
> Anyways my notes are getting boring, next chapter will be up on the 3rd or 4th at the latest depending on feedback!  
> \------------  
> I CRY FROM HAPPINESS WHEN IM GIVEN ANY KIDS OF FEEDABACK AT ALL OK I LOVE U KIDDOS


	3. Headphones, Notes, and Plan C(hloe)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys only make it to lunchtime. Chloe is worried for them, and just doesn't know how to express it.

* * *

**_CHAPTER THREE_ **

* * *

    So far, things have been going... pretty alright for Michael.

      _For two whole periods._

His original plan A of "avoid people because you can't just casually explain how you _magically_  changed bodies with your best friend" was going to be doomed by the end of third period.

      _All thanks to Christine Canigula._

_Okay, maybe it's not REALLY her fault,_ Michael reasons with himself, swaying to some nonexistent beat as he makes his way to Jeremy's third period: Theater.

     Also known as the birthplace, natural habitat, and potential deathbed for Christine Canigula. It helped that she had the same third period as Jeremy, too.

     There was  _no_ chance of avoiding her. Not to mention, she was almost as good of a Jeremy Emotion Reader as Michael, post their mutual breakup ("We just... didn't click as a couple," he remembers Jeremy admitting, "She also figured out that she's ace! Isn't that so cool?"). Michael never hated Christine, it's just that now is the worst imaginable time for him to interact with  _anyone._

     He had to fix Jeremy's cardigan again before entering the auditorium, pushing the sleeves up to his elbows.

      _Authentic Jeremy. Now, to try and avoid Christine in an... Unauthentic Jeremy fashion!_

It didn't last fifteen seconds. He makes it halfway to a seat in the back of the room.

     "JEREMY!" Christine tackles him into a kind, gushy, hug. 

    "Hey," he speaks into her hair, still captured from the waist down. Christine lets him go and stares up to Jeremy's eyes, and Michael makes a mental note to stutter sometime in his next sentence.

     She frowns as her own charchol eyes move down his face. "Uhm, Jeremy?"

     "W-what?"  _Nice._

"Why do you have Michael's headphones?"  _Fuck._ He tries to casually swing Jeremy's back forward and begins to stuff his beloved ivory treasures into it.

     "I-I was just b-borrowing them."  _Was that overselling it?_

"Weird. I've never seen him without those things! Is he okay?" Christine locks her fingers together, sitting down in one of the seats. Michael finishes zipping up the backpack and does the same.

     "T-that's because..." He trails off. Christine tilts her head sideways, scarily catlike and suspicious.

     "Because... I meant that they were the same  _kind_ of headphones. S-since I liked min-Michael's so much, I found the exact kind online!"  _Did I stutter ENOUGH this time?_

_"_...Oh."

     A few minutes pass by where Mr. Reyes declares that they'll be perfecting a script reading on one particular scene for the day.

     A scene without Jeremy.

      _Score._

A scene without Christine (to everyone's surprise), leaving them to converse for the rest of the period.

      _Fuck._

"Is everything good with you, Jeremy? You seem... _sad_ or something. I can't ignore it."

     "I-I'm fine, Chris!" He smiles, but internally winces at the fact he called her "Chris",  _Jeremy never calls her "Chris", dude!_

     "Truly?" She asks, crossing her arms. Her eyes dance about the room, as if she's internally debating something. She sighs and pulls her attention back to "Jeremy" now tugging and twirling a strand of hair.

     "Look, in math, Jenna told Chloe, Brooke, and me that you  _and_ Michael were really on egde this morning when you saw Jake and Rich." She looked defeated for confessing, face falling at the statement. Nonetheless , she narrowed her eyes in an effort to intimidate Michael into telling her.

     "Uhm, look, Chris...tine, nothing is wrong. I swear."

     " _Jeremy,"_ she sighs, and puts his hand in hers, scrunching up her eyebrows. "We all worry about each other. And if something's up with you two... I would want you to tell us. But, friendship is all about trust. So... I trust you. If you say you're fine, then I won't pry." She gives a small smile and relaxes her face.

     "Really?" Michael tries his hardest not to sound as surprised as he really is.

     "Really!" Christine is entirety smiling now, overflowing with so much happiness only someone like Christine could muster.

     Michael feels like an asshole for the rest of the class.

* * *

 

     Jeremy had been doing as best he could. He had slept through Michael's first three classes because;

     A. The kid needed any ounce of sleep he could get, and

     B. It was an easy Michael Thing to do.

     He was just outside the door Michael's to fourth period, feeling better about his day than he thought he would, remembering to take smaller steps and keep his eyes forward, _not drawing any attention at-_

     "Michael!" Someone swung him around by the arm just as he was about to step foot into the classroom. He saw that the source was a rather pouty Chloe."Where are your headphones?" she dived straight into interrogation, leaving Jeremy speechless.

      _Think, don't look too worried or pull a Jeremy Face, speak slowly to avoid stuttering, breathe..._

"The headphones are loctated...in my... backpack." Jeremy prays that didn't sound like a question. Or a robot. Chloe only huffs, frowns, and swings out her phone to most likely text away with Brooke during Chemistry. Jeremy follows her into the classroom and seats himself in the back row ( _just like Michael would!_ ), and notices Chloe plop herself down  _right next to him._

_Does she normally sit there?_

He tries to keep a straight face when the bell rings and she hasn't moved. Her focus is at least away from Jeremy, and onto her phone.

     Halfway through the lecture, a wadded up sheet of notebook paper lands right on top of his boredom doodles now covering Michael's notebook cover. He slowly uncrumples it, and looks at it as if there could be a bomb inside.

     No bomb. Just a note from Chloe.

      **Mike,**

**i heard something is up w/ you and jer. What's up?!**

He knows it as Chole's handwriting, cursive letters and bubbles instead of dots for the "i's" and "j's". 

      Jeremy would've preferred an _actual_  bomb. 

      He didn't know what do respond with,  _especially_ considering Michael's near decipherable chicken-scratch excuse for handwriting was impossible to do convincingly. So he didn't respond at all.

      Chole kept looking over to "Michael" seemingly ignoring her, looking more and more pissed with every passing minute with no answe. Jeremy could feel himself sweat a little too much everytime they accidentally made eye contact.

       _I REALLY fucking hope she doesn't wanna beat me up._

* * *

 

     Lunch couldn't have come sooner. Jeremy all but ran out of the classroom and speedwalked down the hall, nearly tripping a few times. He was friends with Chloe, and he thought she was great, but _damn,_ ca _n she be terrifying._ She stared him down the entirety of class, as if she could read his mind if she just stared long and hard enough.

      As he neared the courtyard, he looked around for the red hoodie that he could always use to pick Michael out of a crowd. He caught sight of _his own_ bright red, patch-covered arm and a wave of stupidity crashed over him. He's supposed to be looking for  _himself._

     He ran over to Michael, who had his back pressed against the edge of the lunchroom building. Jeremy got closer to see Michael looking how _he_  does when he stays up for 48 hours or feels like shit. He's about to ask what happened, but Michael beats him to it.

      "Christine is awfully suspicious, and gave me an innocent speech about how friendship is built on trust," Michael sighs, pushing hair out of his face with annoyance.  _This boy needs a haircut._

"The irony," Jeremy pushes the glasses back to the bridge of his nose for the nth time, just as they're on the verge of falling off Michael's nose. "I think I accidentally pissed Chole off big time."

     "Yikes... Wanna bail? Y'know, plan B?"

     "We never had a plan B."

     "We do now. It's the 'Go to Michael's basement and Smoke Away our Problems Until We Decide to Deal With it Tomorrow' plan," Michael starts down the sidewalk towards the parking lot.

      "...Plan B it is!" Jeremy has to jog to catch up.

      The move quickly in silence, not wanting to get any attention from a teacher.

     They take one foot out if the gate before someone (and someone _strong_ at that) is gripping each of their arms back. Jeremy somehow rights himself, but Michael isn't as lucky, falling backwards when he isn't able to catch his footing in time.  _Long-ass Jeremy legs..._

     "Better yet, plan C." Neither of them take the risk of looking up.

     " It's the, 'Come with Chole So You Can Tell Me What The Hell Is Your Problem and Let me Help with Said Problem' plan."

_...Plan C it is!_

* * *

 

 

    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>      *chants*GIVE ME CHLOE OR GIVE ME DEATH.  
> Look she's only really "mean" this chapter,,, MY GIRLIE MEANS WELL  
> \----------  
> Happy 3AM lovely kiddos!!  
> God I can't help myself and did another chapter sooner than I said I would....   
> \----------  
> I read the comments, and hoo boy I was literally shAkINg from happiness cause I was originally debating if I was good enough to continue... Self doubt and anxiety have stopped me from posting things for YEARS ajdjsjbsjak,,, but these end notes aren't a therapy session lol :)  
> \----------  
> What I'm trying to say is...THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH I WANNA SCREAM AND FLING MYSELF INTO THE SUN (in a good way)  
> \----------  
> Also!! Some people commenting are considering it and au and if it really IS worthy of au status imma dub it "riendsBoyf" FOR THE TIME BEING lmao (can I do that?? u dont have to call it that,,,, stop me someone please)  
> \----------  
> Comment some stuff, kudos (i forgot those were a thing?) n such and I will freaking sell my soul to u  
> \----------  
> ((im basilee on tumblr, btw))  
>   
> Alright basil out, I'm gonna go sleep an unhealthy amount


	4. Kidnapping, Interrogation, and Texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe takes charge and the boys are awkward.

* * *

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

* * *

 

     Ideally, the two had wanted to end up in Michael's basement, or Jeremy's house, or literally  _anywhere_ other than Chloe Valentine's living room.

     To say the ride over there was "tragically awkward" would be a massive understatement. She had all but thrown the boys into her car (one that was almost too nice for an average highschool junior). Jeremy had gotten into the rhythm of bouncing his leg and using Michael's hoodie to his advantage. By the time they pulled onto the main road he was already buried into the big, soft, admittedly sweaty fabric. Trying, and failing, to forget the fact that he was technically being  _kidnapped._

Her house was only a small ways from the school, but it felt like an eternity due to eerie silence, save for the occasional screeching of tires from Chloe's abrupt turns and most likely speeding.

     Wordlessly, they stumbled into her house. Michael had paused before entering, debating if he could make a run for it.  _Jeremy can run pretty fast..._ but is immediately foiled by a hand on his shoulder, pushing him through the doorway.

     Chloe, sure the be the last to enter, closes and locks her front door.

     "Well?" Her voice cuts into the air. She takes her time swinging off her jacket and elegantly falls onto the couch before continuing. She crosses her legs and holds her head up high.

     " _SPILL,_ "

     Jeremy and Michael didn't know any better than to just stand in the center of the room rocking on their heels. By the time they scan the room and count a reasonable number of places they could've just casually sat down, Chloe is getting impatient.

     "I said, ' _SPILL_ '!"

     "Spill... what?" Michael asks, overselling a miserable façade of obliviousnees.

     "Did I fucking stutter, Heere?" 

     A moment passes, where the only sign of life in the massive house was a faint  _tick, tock_ coming from a grandfather clock a few rooms over.

     "Are you guys fighting?"

     "No!"

     "Are you both mad at someone else?"

     "N-no,"

     "Is one of you sick?"

     "Nah,"

     Chloe stands up.

     "...Are you dating?"

     "NO!" The boys practically shout in unison, both sets of eyes darting to the ground in hopes of making sure the other doesn't see the blush flooding their faces.

      _Idiots,_ Chloe thinks. She moves a few steps forward.

     Michael pouts and twists his head over to Jeremy, motioning in Chloe's direction.

     "M-maybe you're just being overly observant, Chloe-" Jeremy tries to add on, slouching a bit more with every word.

     "UGGGH!" Her anger is replaced by defeat in record time. "...Don't make me say it."

     "Say what, Clo?"

     She huffs a second time and puts a hand to her forehead.

     "Look, ever since October, we've all gotten real close," she pauses, giving a small, sincere smile. "I may seem like a total bitch sometimes, but I'm not _heartless_. If you're hiding something that's hurting you guys- whatever, you get my point." Her eyebrows are back to being scrunched down, waiting for a response.

    Jeremy is, shockingly, The first to make contact and pull Chloe into an awkward hug.

     "Thanks, Mike." She sighs, giving in to the surprise embrace. Michael hops over as well and gives her a bony elbow to the side.

     "Aww, _Cwo wuves us!"_ he laughs, (earning a frown and light punch from Chloe). Michael steps back again to meet eyes with both of the others. "Ah, come on, we love you, too,"

     This time, the  _tick, tock_ filling the air is much welcomed into their conversation.

    "NOW CAN YOU FUCKING _TELL ME_?"

     It's Jeremy and Michael's turn to expose themselves. Jeremy raises an eyebrow, silently asking for his Player One's opinon.

     Michael is having trouble breathing. 

     Jeremy hesititates, unsure of what to do. He reaches his hand out, but pulls it back not a second later.

      _He needs to slow his breathing._

Jeremy reaches out a shaky hand for a second time, and this time grabs Michael's arm, jumping a little when taking in how it's so different than his _actual_ arm. He gives a light squeeze (careful not to bruise his own skin).

      _Squeeze, and let go. Squeeze, and let go._

Michael eventually starts to breathe in time with the pulses, and gives a small nod.

     "Spit it out, spit it  _out!_ " Chloe is (embarrassingly) begging at this point.

     "...Take it away, Jeremy!" Michael blurts.

     "N-no, I think  _you_ should get to say it, Michael. Being my  _favorite person_ and all!"  Jeremy nervously laughs way too forcefully.

     Chloe seems confused by them now seemingly talking to _themselves_ , but snaps back to looking pissed. "If you guys are just gonna fuck around-"

    "No!" Jeremy sighs, an uneasy feeling knotting in his stomach. "We're _both_ gonna explain it" he gestures between Michael and himself. Both take a gulp and force it out. Jeremy starts, stepping back unintentionally.

    "I... am _Jeremy_ "

    "And _I'm_ Michael,"

    "Th-this morning, we may have just, woken up..."

     "And it seems that Jeremy and I..."

     "May have possibly..."

     "Swapped..."

     "Bodies,"

      _God, was that ten times more fucking difficult than it needed to be._

Everyone let out a breath the didn't know was being held.

Chloe just stands there, taking in their words.

     "I get it...," She starts, eyes widening. "You're both stoned off your asses and have begun to transcend sanity!"

     She marches away to the kitchen counter, phone in hand. She rushes to shove her phone charger into the port.

     Jeremy panics, chasing closely behind her. "W-WE CAN  _PROVE_ IT!"

    Chloe spins around on her foot, hair flying underneath her hairband. She moves a hand to her hip. "How?"

     Jeremy's face falls. "How can we prove it, Mikey?" he half-whispers. He only receives a deadpan stare.

     "You are  _so_ lucky right now, dude," With that, Michael moves to the other side of the counter, where Chloe stays put. 

      _"I_ have a secret that's only between you and me." Michael says, leaning smugly on the counter. Chloe leans in on the opposing side. She speaks, a mocking tone coating her words.

     "Bullshit,  _'Michael'"_ (Complete with sassy air-quoting on the name) "What could you _possibly_ know that-"

     "YOU HAVE A HUGE GAY CRUSH ON _BROOKE LOHST_!" Michael leaps upward with his hands on the counter.

     Chloe, for once, is utterly speechless. Jeremy makes some sort of weird-ass choking noise.

     "Ya told me while Jeremy was at some play rehearsal a while back. We were having some sort if nails-n-makeup session."

     Chloe blinks, cursing herself with reddened cheeks and biting her lip.

     "I swore  _on my fucking life_ not to tell anyone. Not even Jeremy! And then I said...?" He waves his palms to Chloe, asking her to finish his sentence. She rolls her eyes.

     "You'd said that I should know that you wouldn't _ever_ tell another soul considering the secret of _yours,_ " she drones.

     Chloe gasps, finally piecing together who she's really talking to. "...Michael?"

     "THANK YOU!"  Jeremy sighs, throwing his arms up into the air. Chloe turns to face who she'd thought was Michael.

      "And... Jeremy,"

     "Yes!"

     She slowly nods and points between the two. "Jeremy is Michael... Michael is Jeremy. Jeremy... Michael...okay," She sighs ( _I have a feeling I'm gonna be doing that a lot_ ), closing her eyes. When she opens them, she tries to look calm, but seems more tired.

    "Go on into my room. I'm gonna throw together something to eat. Since we, like, skipped lunch and all." 

    Michael leads Jeremy down the hall.

    "And, Michael?"

     "Yeah?"

     "I have a free pass to shout  _your_ secret anytime I wish,"

    "WHAT?!"

"Sorry, I don't make the rules!" Chloe sings.

* * *

 

      _Drip, drip, drip..._ The kitchen faucet gives the brunette something other than her racing thoughts to put her focus on. In a way, it's hypnotizing. The subtle ambiance of her house is a good distraction as well. A faint smell of perfume and overused candles that constantly hang in the air of her house. Cluttered shelves from her parents always buying a little too much of everything. 

     No matter how hard Chloe tries to give herself a break, thoughts still circle back to secondhand worry.

_I'm supposed to be getting food._

     Chloe grabs a few sodas from the fridge and tosses a bag if popcorn into the microwave.

     She has a couple more minutes before it is done, so she fills out the time by getting herself a glass of water, rethinking what she'd just heard in the living room only minutes ago. She leans back, taking in the quiet stillness of the room.

      _They're gonna have to tell the others eventually. I could barely convince them to tell me. What else can they do?_

The cell phone still plugged in on the counter buzzes and lights up while playing the familiar notification chime. Chloe jumps at the sudden noise. Her fingers mindlessly trail around the edges of her cup, half-lidded eyes staring down at the phone.

      _Shit, I haven't texted anyone since fourth._

  * **_New Message From 'Brooke <3' (Just Now)_**



_where are u??? jer and mike r gone too text back!!!!!!!!!_

  * **_6 Unread Messages From 'Brooke <3'_**



_u coming to lunch??_

_where u at ho_

_Chloe?? no one has seen where u went_

_ugh im huntin u down_

_ok im getting worried,,,,,,, chlo?????_

_CHLOE VALENTINE >:(_

****The phone is in her hands when the microwave beeps harshly, signifying she doesn't have long until Jeremy and Michael get antsy.

     She unlocks it and impulsively opens up the group chat.

* * *

      Michael lays on Chloe's bed, head bobbing to whatever groovy song that was playing in his headphones (and being very ecstatic to have them out again). Jeremy sits next to him, perfectly content just daydreaming and studying the various makeup, trinkets, and clothes laying around in an organized chaos of sorts.

     They don't mind how long Chloe's taking. Just sitting there felt normal, savoring the dynamic that hasn't been gone long, but is already craved for again.

     Chloe barges in. She's armed with a silver tray carrying 3 sodas and a bowl of popcorn. Jeremy gives his buddy a shake to get him to pull his headphones down to his neck.

     "So," Chole tosses a can to Jeremy (who barely manages to catch it). "Why?"

     "I wish I knew!" Jeremy scoffs. He pops open the soda and takes a long drink. "What do you think we should do next?"

     "You're the only one who knows about this, Chloe," Michael points out, scooting forward to the bowl of popcorn and stuffs his face. Jeremy takes another sip.

     "It was a fucking _nightmare_ teling you. I-I can't begin to think about the utter embarrassment o-of-"

      Michael grabs another handful of popcorn. "'N we already roped  _you_ into this mess! Can we maybe at least _try_ to keep it on the down-low? Just f'now."

      Chloe gulps and looks to the ground. "You didn't see the group chat yet?"

     "Whatta bout it?" Michael leans into Jeremy, who was already pulling the chat screen up on his phone.

  * **_'Chloe' Sent a Message to 'SquipSquad'_**



_bail school, at my place with the dorks. they got something to reeealll fuckin important to say. Get over here ASAP. not fuckin kidding!!!!!!_

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo I'm getting the hang of end notes kiddos (at least I think so but I'm probably wrong lmao)  
> \----------  
> New drinking game: take a shot every time I find a way to fit in the phrase "the boys"  
> \----------  
> I keep wanting to rush the story and had to fix my drafts 827373 times  
> \----------  
> short end notes because im tired and may go into a coma from eating too may peanut mnms while writing this.  
> \----------  
> basil out (ily!)


	5. Group Chats, Blushing, and Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SQUIP Squad get to Chloe's house and are treated to a proper explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (UMMM I DUNNO IF I SHOULD SAY THIS BUT There is a teensey-weensey mention of weed use near the beginning! So if you are sensitive to that kind of thing consider yourself warned.)

* * *

_**CHAPTER FIVE** _

* * *

  * _**'Chloe' Sent a Message to 'SquipSquad' (1m Ago)**_



_bail school, at my place with the dorks. they got something reeealll fuckin important to say. Get over here ASAP. not fuckin kidding!!!!!!_

**Brooke**

_THIS BETTER BE WORTH PUTTING ME THRU THE 5 STAGES OF GRIEF_

_im omw <3_

**Christine**

_At least they're alive!_

**Jake**

_broOKE DONT LEAVE YET IM P SURE WE ALL ARE PILING IN UR CAR_

**Brooke**

_ok?_

**Rich**

_yo ten bucks says theyre lovers_

**Christine**

_Let's not take bets on their love lives  -_-_

**Jenna**

_I BET TWENTY_

* * *

       The others arrive in record time. Chloe springs up from her spot by the bed to go greet them, closing the door as she struts out. Jeremy and Michael are left to prepare themselves.

     "How are ya feeling?" Michael gets up and walks around the room.

      "Tired, with a small headache, and I think my vision is getting fuzzy,"

     Michael gives a weak laugh. "That's probably 'cause I haven't smoked in a while," Jeremy just shrugs. 

     "'Cept for the vision thing. You actually have to  _clean_ my glasses now and then,"

     "... Oh,"

     A moment passes, the boys just listening to their breathing.

     "I-I'm scared too, Jer,"

     "What's worse is that.. we shouldn't be," Jeremy sighs and starts to pull at the hoodie.

     "I know. Just, like, remember that these guys are your friends.  _Our_ friends. And, uhm, friendship is all about trust," Michael says with a soft "ahem", the other moving over to the doorway, holding out the hoodie.

     "Put it on, dude," he urges,  "Y-you were right. When you told me about how safe it feels, I mean,"

     Michael doesn't have to be told twice, yanking it over his head with a satisfying _fwip_. Jeremy ultimately ends up pulling on his own cardigan (thread hanging from the cuffs).

    Chloe joins them, making an extra effort to open the door slower than she normally would. "Christine is threatening to carry you out there herself if you don't hurry it up. Try and get it out quick, like a band-aid or something," she suggests, arms crossed. One final look is shared between the best friends, before they trudge out in front of Chloe. Michael feels her hit his back, and he turns to face her faltering smile. "Break a leg," she mutters.

     Everyone's patience looks thin. The teens are scattered about the living room, Christine furthest away, pushing herself along the floor via spinny chair to entertain herself. Rich and Jake sit on the couch, playing a halfhearted game of "I Spy". Next to them resides Brooke, playing with a strand of hair and laying sideways in the loveseat. Jenna looks the most bored of them all, tapping away on her phone with a pout. Not one of them notice the two in question drag their feet to stop just in front of it all.

     Jeremy spurts out something that's partly a throat-clearing and partly a cough. The five oblivious members of the group immediately perk up (Christine frantically rolling closer). Chloe scoots in beside Brooke and mouths a faint " _Just say it!_ " 

    "Uhm, well-" Jeremy chokes, rocking back and forth on his feet. The dreading feeling in the pit of his stomach had come back, only _1,000_ times stronger. He darts his head downward, but only manages to have those _damn_  glasses almost slide off his face. Jeremy flails his arms and looks back up to fix them.

     Michael tries his best to get a word out, but no matter what he told himself, his plans to just blurt everything out in one big spiel ended up being curt sounds and hand gestures.

     What else could the others have done besides stare?

     "Ith this thome kinda charade?" Rich cocks his head in reference to the miming that's been going on for a solid minute.

     "Oh! I  _love_ charades!" Christine flaps her hands around then snaps her fingers, "I got it! Stroke victims!"

     Chloe throws a hand to her face.

      _I guess if you want something done right, you need to do it yourself._

"Alright, I'm sick of watching this! They've  _switched bodies,_ okay?!" She stomps her foot and pushes her back even further into the cushions of the seat.

     Silence falls on them a second time, now directed at the brunette.

     "Don't look at me! Take it up with _them_!"

     All eyes snap back (so in unison that it's kind of scary) to Michael and Jeremy. Rich stands, making his way between the two, an eyebrow raised, he studies them, then breaks into a smirk.

     "...I  _knew_ it!"

     "Pfft, no, you didn't!" Jake pseudo-taunts.

     "Whatever, I thtill buy it!"

     Jake sighs, "How do we know, like, for  _sure,_ bro?"

     The question settles for a moment, until Rich (too impulsive for his own good) breaks the tension with a sharp gasp. "Check _thith_ out!"

     Neither Jeremy or Michael have time to dodge out of the range of the smaller boy's arms. 

     Michael squeaks out a "Hey!" but does nothing more to stop him from swinging their heads sideways with a little more unintentional force than needed.

     Suddenly, the tips of Michael and Jeremy's noses are almost touching and they are sharing the same startled breath. It feels like it goes on for way too long.

     Jeremy at first just feels like he's looking into a mirror. He begins to flush, though, when he thinks about it's  _Michael,_ scared as all hell to be so intimately close.

      _I shouldn't get this embarrassed over looking into my own eyes. Even if I weren't, it's still only Michael!_

     If it was only Michael,  _why_ was he getting so unnerved? Whether he knew why or not, he blushed like a doofus nonetheless.

     Michael, on the other hand, had been effected as well, but to a  _much_ less drastic effect than Jeremy's cheeks- or, rather, his own. Michael himself was never one to blush much, but knew how little it taked to get Jeremy riled up. The sight still made him feel a little bit happier (if he considered that  _he_ might be the reason for it. Maybe. Who the fuck knows?) and blushed a little himself.

     Jake steps in and pulls Rich away. "C'mon, that wasn't cool! I mean, like, you didn't have to _violate_ 'em,"

   "Thorry. Impulthe... I need to think things through more," Rich kicks the ground and gets an apologetic glance. "But- look!"

     Jeremy's lingering blush remains, uncharacteristically bright for Michael.

     "The only person I know who can blush, like,  _that_ much is-"

     "Jeremy," Brooke finishes the sentence for Jake (Michael lets out a small "I know!") She's gotten up from the loveseat now, leaning in to get a better look."I didn't believe you dorks, but, erm..."

     She shrieks. "I'll handle her," Chloe escorts the blonde into the kitchen.

     Michael faces the two remaining in awe. "Chris, Jenna, are you good?"

     "Yeah, I'm just... a little spooked, I guess,"

     "Understandable," Michael comforts. Christine skips over to hold his hands in hers once more.

      "Guess you did end up trusting us in the end!"

      He nods, tugging at his hoodie.

      "And lemme tell you from an expert's point of view, that was really crummy acting earlier today," 

     Christine then steps aside to let Jenna make her statement. She finally closes her mouth, which was gaping open the whole time.

     "My question is, why didn't you just tell me in the _first place_?!" 

     Jeremy speaks up (face back to normal, _thank Christ_ ). "You're asking why we didn't tell the  _local gossip_ a huge, insane secret?"

     "Yeah," Rich leans over and taps her arm. "We love you, Jen, but you're thorta a blabbermouth," The others just sort of nod along.

      Jenna dramatically rolls her eyes and grins. "Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to  _say_ it,"

   Brooke returns with a small cup of water and Chloe at her side. 

     "I'm fine now," she announces once she sees the worried looks cast her direction. "Can we get some more info to go off of?"

     "Brooke's right," Chloe falls back into her seat. "It'll be a helluva lot easier to find a solution if we completely understand the problem,"

     "That's part of the problem itself," Michael interjects, "We don't remember shit about the night it happened," Groans and huffs circle around.

     "Wait, you... Don't remember anything?" Jeremy asks, joining Michael on the floor cross-legged.

     "You  _do?!"_

"Tell us everything!" Brooke exclaims.

     They all had shuffled to back to their earlier seats, while Jeremy held a hand to his chin, trying to pick out any specific details.

     "Well, it happened either last night or really early this morning. I-It was raining, and Michael and I were just playing Apocalypse of the Damned like we always do. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I dunno," he shrugs, leaning back slightly. "Then I just feel like I'm b-being electrocuted. You were too, and then you started screaming and passed out," Michael gives a small hum when he's mentioned. "The last thing I remember is screaming and waking up to  _this,_ "

     Michael takes on a look of concern. "So... You're saying we were shocked and then knocked out?" He is replied by a solemn nod.

     Biting her cheek, Jenna debates if she should just say what had ultimately popped into her head. 

      _It's better to just get the possibly out of the way._

"What if it's the SQUIP?" __ __

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Mikey may have stole the friendship/trust thing from our local theatre geek, and Rich is trying his best)  
> I might have been underestimating when I said the story was looking to be 7-10 chapters.... now that I actually break the outline into chapters it will most likely be 10 or more. Sorry this was mostly dialogue, but it sorta needed to be done  
> \----------  
> I was going to let this chapter wrap up at [undisclosed event] but since this part is the most dialogue-heavy I decided to cut it off a little earlier.  
> \----------  
> Goodness I got like 2 more concepts for new fics while writing today buT IM FORCING MY EASILY DISTRACTED ASS TO FINISH THIS ONE FIRST.  
> \----------  
> Every time I've read the comments I've lost my shit with unex-FUCKING-spressable happiness!!!! my skin is cleared reading ur questions, comments, and critiques :')  
> \----------  
> One more thing! ily <3


	6. Operations, Memories, and the SQUIP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids devise a plan and Jeremy and Michael get lost in thought.

* * *

_**CHAPTER SIX** _

* * *

Just by the sheer mention of it, the air itself seems to tense. Rich and Jeremy in particular, the latter of whom had already begun to absentmindedly bite his nails (he'd have to apologize to Michael later). Sure, the whole ordeal had brought them together in the first place, but ever since October the topic had been treaded lightly. _Especially_ when Jeremy or Rich were present.  
  
     "I know it's a touchy subject, but think about it!" Jenna silently curses herself for even bringing it up. "You were _shocked._ Remind you of something?" She explains a bit too bluntly.

     Rich pulls his knees up to his chest. Taking notice, Jenna winces.

     "Sorry. But... Maybe something, like, glitched,"

     "You're suggesting it's some kinda... _software bug_?" Michael pouts, trying to wrap his head around it. "Is that even possible?"

     Chloe crosses her legs and clicks her tongue. "It's a Japanese robotic Tic Tac that took over our brains. Our suspension of disbelief is pretty high, Mike,"

      Rich's head jerks up when he sees he feels Jake pat his knee. "I'd punch that thing if I could," says Jake. Rich smirks. 

     "I wanna drop kick 'em,"

     "I suggest a tasteful bitch-slap," Jenna suggests.

     "Wait, so we're actually _going_ with this?" Brooke raises an eyebrow skeptically.

     "It's our best shot, guys!" Christine cheers from her chair, trying to hype up her friends. She pauses when she notices Jeremy, who was still biting his nails and staring at nothing in particular.

     "Jeremy?" She asks, sending him a sensitive gaze.

     "It's just-," he squirms out of her grasp, and pauses before continuing.

     "I-I'm not the one who's gonna have to deal with them,"

     Suddenly, all eyes are on Michael.

      _Shit, that's right._

"Don't worry about me," He announces with a sigh. "If there's a chance it could get us back to normal, I'm up for it," Michael holds up a hand as if he wants to continue, but decides against it.

     "We're gonna need to go and get Mountain Dew, then," Rich murmurs.

     "Red, too! I have a guy at Spencer's Gifts I still need to get a pack from. In case of an emergency. Also, I don't wanna go to sleep knowing- hang on, how long is this going to take?!" Michael's quick glace to the wall clock showed it was already nearing four in the afternoon.

     "I dunno about you guys, but I think that we should, like, stick together,"

     Chloe nods. "Jake's right. 'N it just so _happens_ that my parents are out of town until Monday. Y'know, business trip and whatever," she twirls her finger along with the implication.

      The room erupts with indistinct chatter while the group breaks off to text parents and make arrangements. All the while upholding an unspoken rule of optimism. Jeremy also breaks into a weak smile, still sitting on the ground with Michael. He figures to text his dad and tell him that he'd be spending the night at "Michael's house".

     Michael felt better knowing everyone was trying to keep everything casual, but he couldn't help but dread the time when the blissful ignorance could reach a breaking point. He shakes the idea away and shoots a message at his Spencer's input.

     "ALRIGHTY!"

     The teens look up to see Christine, standing on the spinny chair with hands cupped around her mouth, displayomg as much authority as she could.

     "We gotta go to Spencer's to get the Mountain Dew Red and the 7-Eleven for the Green. We have Chloe's car and Brooke's. So what are we gonna do?" She doesn't wait for a response, jumping down and striding over to the front door. "Exactly! Half of us go with Brooke to one place and the rest of us go with Chloe to the other! That way we cut the time it takes in half!"

     Considering that this was the only plan suggested, no one decided to argue.

     "The 7-Eleven isn't far from my house, and I need to swing by my place and grab clothes and stuff," Brooke mentions, grabbing her keys from the coffee table. "And Chris lives across the street from me,"

     "I wanna go with Brooke, too!" Rich hops over to stand along with the other two. "I hereby deem _mythelf_ in charge of picking out thnacks,"

     "Count me in your group. I'm in desperate need of a Slurpee," Michael is the last to join Brooke's half.

     "Guess that leaves us to Spencer's Gifts," Chloe looks to Jake, Jeremy, and Jenna. "Do any of you need to stop at home?" She asks while pulling on her jacket.

     Jenna and Jake give a nod ("Rich has clothes at my house, so I'll, like, get his shit, too,"), and Jeremy shakes his head. Michael and himself have always had a change of clothes in their backpack since the seventh grade due to never knowing if they would end up staying over at each other's house on a school night. Christine, being the optimist she is, pumps her fist in the air and laughs.

     "ALRIGHT, OPERATION FIX MICHAEL AND JEREMY IS A GO!"

     "Can we maybe come up with a thazzier name?"

     "When you come up with a better one,"

* * *

 

    It doesn't take long for the kids to pile into the cars (Christine already calling shotgun and blaring some showtune through the speakers, Rich inexplicably finds it a good song to bang his head to in the backseat). Jeremy and Michael linger behind for a second, admiring the hustle and bustle around them.

     "Okay, so my guy is expecting _me_  to go into the back storage room. Alone. 'Kay, Jere-Bear?" Jeremy only looks into the driveway, blanking out. "...Jere? Jeremy? You okay?"

     "Huh?!" He yawns, not even looking up to his friend. "Yeah, I'm good. Alone, got it," 

     They're interrupted by Chloe honking her horn out of impatience. Jeremy runs off, leaving Michael to make his way to Brooke's.

      _What the hell?_

* * *

      Brooke, Christine, Rich, and Michael pull into the 7-Eleven (their first stop of the night) three Broadway jams later.

     Michael takes a deep breath in as he steps into the joint, the smell of gas station food the glare of florescent light coating the store.

     It's a breath well-taken, even though he wishes he'd gone with Jeremy.

     The four don't stay at each other's side for long, Rich bolting down a rather small aisle to pick out too many bags of sugary treats off flimsy shelves. Brooke and Christine are next to go, chatting about some new cast recoding as they look for the infamous soft drink. For the second time that afternoon, Michael is left alone. Whatever implications there are with that, he doesn't want to think about.

     So instead, his mind _logically_ wanders to the concept that he'd be soon reactivating the SQUIP again, given it even _can_ be fully reactivated.

      _Don't even think about pussying out,_ he tells himself, sliding his feet around the grimy tile.  _Jere had put up with it for weeks, not to mention Rich. Besides, this is getting you one step closer to being yourself again. And Jere will most likely stop acting so...off._

The soft  _bzz_ of the lights ring in his ears.

     He's knocked out of the endless pit of thoughts when he sees the girls approach, holding a plastic bag containing four bottles of Mountain Dew ("For good measure!").

     They seem to understand his face to some degree, because they share a look and lower the bag a little.

     "Don't you wanna grab a Slurpee?" Brooke gestures to the worn machine at the back wall. Christine attempts a smile.

     "Oh! N-Nah, I'm not really all that thirsty now that we're here," he waves them off, believing that he was thoroughly convincing.

     "Guyth! I got the food!" Rich bounds over from the register. "I made thure to get all kinth of..." His eagerness wears down when he catches eye contact with Brooke.

     "Why are we so down all of a sudden?" Michael laughs, spinning around on his heel to pull open the doors and ring the familiar bells hanging from them. "We gotta whole night ahead of us!"

     The other three share another look when he isn't facing them.

* * *

 

   After stopping by Jenna's and Jake's, the others began to pull into the lot of Spencer's Gifts. Upon parking, Jake starts to get out, but is quickly stopped by a startled Jeremy.

     "Wait! Michael said I had to go by myself," he says, voice slowly becoming monotone midway through the sentence.

     "Ya sure you can handle it?" Jenna asks. Jermey only gives out a small affirmation before shutting the car door a little too brashly and jogging into the shop.

     Chloe drums her fingers on the steering wheel.

     "Do ya, like, think he's okay?" Jake looks out the open window. Jenna rolls her eyes and unplugs her phone from the aux chord.

     "I highly doubt someone in his situation is okay,"

     "Something else is bugging him," Chloe states very matter-of-fact.

     "What makes you say that?" Jenna questions.

     "He wasn't like this earlier at my house. Both he and Mike _were_ acting off but he was more... Stuttery and shit earlier. Whatever. I can't pinpoint, but something is different," Jake wonders how Chloe could be so sure of herself all the time. He wants to ask, but Jeremy immediately falls into the backseat next to him, a six pack of vintage Mountain Dew Red in his lap and a blank expression.

     "Let's go,"

     If Jeremy was honest with himself, _he_ couldn't even pinpoint the absolute source of his problems.

     The ride back is quiet, and Jeremy occupies his time by boring his eyes into the sunset sky, almost blinded from passing streetlights beginning to flicker on. The pale orange spread across the sky ties himself down into thinking about last October. He had only done that sparcely for the past three months.

    Michael told him about this phenomena that happens in your brain with memories once when he was getting stoned. How bits and pieces of a memory are slightly altered every time the neural pattern was excited, or something. Each time Jeremy recalled the SQUIP-cident, more of the "fine print" details would be harder to remember. He had thought about it nonstop for the first month. _T_ _he worst month of my life._ Nowadays, when he tried to replay the slideshow, it felt like recalling a hazy nightmare. One where you forgot a lot about what exactly was said or done, but you still know the key moments and the crushing emotion of whatever feeling that had hit you during it. For this nightmare, six words were still as clear as they had been the night they came:  _Get out of my way. Loser._

      _Everything is my fault. None of this would've happened if I had never even taken that godforsaken pill in the first place. I wouldn't have almost destroyed all of human civilization. I wouldn't have almost lost my best friend._

    It still baffles him how the others, let alone Michael, still talk to him or even tolerate him. Even now, when an obligatory "weak friendship because 'Hey, we suffered together!'" would begin to simmer and fade away, all of them had no problem helping Jeremy and were losing sleep over not knowing what's wrong. Part of that upset him. _I don't deserve it. What have I done to deserve it?_

     As the car turns onto Chloe's street, he remembers how he's not the only one in trouble here. Michael is trapped in his body. _Michael_ is gonna have to face the SQUIP and get them to give a somewhat helpful answer.

      So, for the time being, he decides to stop feeling so crummy. He was going to ignore whatever was doing flips in his gut when he got lost in thought or looked at Michael for too long. Jeremy smiles, giving in to the blind optimism the group was trying so desperately to uphold for the sake of everyone's well-being.

     _I'm going to let myself think that things are able to be okay. Just this once._

Brooke's car is already at the house, and Chloe's car soon joins it. Jeremy laughs at the humidity clinging to the glasses as he hops out.

      _Easier said than done._

* * *

      Chloe, Jake, Jenna, and Jeremy join Brooke, Christine, Rich and Michael sitting on the floor around the coffee table. The table itself was covered entirety by bags of chips, candies, and nonalcoholic beverages(?), courtesy of Rich. The Mountain Dew was placed front and center.

     "Is this everything?" Michael asks as his Player Two plops down beside him.

    "I think so. You just need this," Jeremy tosses a bottle of Mountain Dew Red into his hands. "Are you sure you wanna do this, dude?"

     Michael smiles. "Positive," He opens the bottle of regular Mountain Dew and holds it in his other hand, eyes fixated on the label. "Anything I should know? I mean, I'm the only one who hasn't taken it before," A few small glances are shared before answering.

     Rich is the first to speak up. "It hurth a bit when it activateth," Michael must've made a concerning face, because he quickly adds, "But! It won't be long. Promithe," He gives an encouraging thumbs-up.

     "And, erm, it looks different for everyone, I think," Jeremy says, tapping on the table. "Mine- well,  _yours,_ is Keanu Reeves," This statement makes the room lighten up a bit.

     "Pfft- Keanu Reeves?"

     "I-It's the best setting, trust me!"

     "Okay, man!" He feels a little better knowing Jeremy is.

      "It might not even work," Choke deadpans, but isn't quick enough to hide the seed of doubt that clings to her words.

     Michael stands up, as if to feel more in control.

     "Here goes nothing,"

     He downs half the bottle.

     Nothing happens.

     A few let out a held breath. Jeremy stands and takes the bottle quietly.

     "L-look, maybe we c-can-"

     "AAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

     Jeremy drops the bottle as soon as he holds it to grap on to Michael and keep him upright ( _Who knew I was so light? Ugh, now is NOT THE TIME!_ ). Michael continues to scream, because it _hurts_   _like a motherfucker,_ his head pounding and violently buzzing. Despite every muscle in his body tells that him to drop it, he clings to the bottle of Mountain Dew Red as if his life depended on it (and it very well could've). Everyone else is gathered close, wincing and praying for whatever pain Michael was going through to stop as abruptly as it had started.

     As the ripping buzz in his head dampens to a low drawl, he sees the air in front of him pixelate.

     The pain is suddenly gone, and out materializes a taller, blue-tinted human-esqe being right in front of his eyes. If Michael wasn't so shocked, he would've taken the time to look at their getup or the faint circuits lining their skin.

     Jeremy holds onto him, even after Michael regains his footing. No one speaks or moves as they watch Michael lock eyes with some unseeable being. It speaks confidently, narrowing it's eyes towards Michael.

     "Michael Mell, welcome to Jeremy Heere's Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor... His SQUIP"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christine is the official cheerleader of the group (and has gotten Brooke into musicals) no one can convince me otherwise  
> fyi the squip will go by they/them pronouns in this fic as they should lol  
> \----------  
> How's it hangin', Lovelies ^-^?  
> The latest outline has this as 11 chapters so that's what I'm setting it as for now (I'm not really changing the story just changing how I pace it and break up the events lol)  
> \----------  
> the next chapter is some more Light Hearted 'Humor' Shit Ft. Sassy Squip  
> \----------  
> All these comments are so fuckin AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaaAA surprising to me,,,, who's putting you all up to it???  
> \----------  
> Thanks for reading, I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!


	7. Sass, Troubleshooting, and eBay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SQUIP offers their troubleshooting skills.

* * *

**_CHAPTER SEVEN_ **

* * *

    The SQUIP stood before Michael, with an unnatural posture and a look of borderline disgust. Michael assures Jeremy he can let go of him. He complies, yet doesn't stray as far as the others have (who watch from behind with an extra effort to sputter minimal comments). Michael stands up a little straighter, sticking the Mountain Dew Red into his hood pocket.

     "I didn't expect a  _bootleg_ Keanu Reeves," he musters as much confidence as someone talking to a demonic super computer could.

     "And I did not expect some bootleg Jeremy, yet here we are," the SQUIP deadpans with a frown.

     "Uhm, do you see them?" Brooke questions, taking a small step back. Jenna, standing next to her, holds a sarcastic hand out in the direction of Michael.

     "He's having an animated conversation with himself, I'm _pretty_ sure he's seeing the SQUIP," she says. Chloe shushes them, coincidentally before the SQUIP talks again, tapping their foot.

     "I will kindly remind you that you do not have to speak to communicate with me. I am part of your brain,"

     "Like hell I'll think at you! I want them to have at least  _half_ of this exchange!" Michael retorts, stepping forward and shoving a finger in the SQUIP's face.

     "Very well, Michael," they are entirely unphased by the boy's gesture, and leans to pick a piece of lint off of his hoodie.

     "When was the last time you washed this thing?" the SQUIP makes a sour face and flicks it off of sharpened nails.

     Michael flails his arms in an attempt to smack them. He only manages to trip a considerable amount when his hands phase through the SQUIP's ghost-like form. "How are you still not used to Jeremy's body?" it taunts.

      _Who does this SQUIP think they are?_ "A being far more superior than you," the SQUIP walks with swagger around to observe the others, completely unaware of their actions. They don't seem to care about this fact, stopping in front of Rich, who is trying to discreetly put some chips into his mouth.

    "W-what's it saying?" Jeremy asks softly.

     "Just being a smartass,"

     Rich's eyes narrowing at the empty space, he offers a knowing nod. "Thounds like THQUIP," he hides the fact that he had spit out some crumbs with his statement. The SQUIP isn't fooled. "Eugh! _This_ is Goranski now? You should remind the Alpha to clean her floor." They pull their attention back to their host, who looks completely and utterly  _pissed._

     "My programming provides infinite knowledge, and half a brain to know the obvious. I would not exactly classify it as being a 'smartass'. And allow me to observe, that expression would have been extremely helpful trying to fend off Dillinger at the party. Would you be so kind as to tech him to do that himself?"

     "Fuck off! He doesn't need your help anymore, Siri! Why don't you use that ' _knowledge'-,"_ he makes a point to mock them overzealously, "-to tell us why I'm in Jeremy's body?"

     "I can not,"

     " _What_?!" (Cue Jake's stifled laugh from the voice crack.)

     "What's that about?" Christine looks baffled, holding a hand to her cheek.

     Michael huffs with as much drama as he can and shoots a piercing gaze towards the SQUIP (Who only rolls their eyes). "They 'can not' tell us what's happened. Y'know, I bet you're just not using contractions just to make yourself sound smarter!"

     Jeremy follows his friends line of sight and yells in the SQUIP's direction, "UGGGH, YOU'RE JUST BEING AN ASSHOLE!" ("I see Jeremy has gotten more expressive,")

     "Can he, like, hear us?" Jake asks almost too quietly, balling his fists. Jeremy nods. "Well, you're sole purpose is to help Jeremy or something, right?" The SQUIP begins to form a response for Michael to relay, but Jake doesn't pause for long. He walks closer, but avoids any eye contact by keeping his focus glued to the ground. "So, like, HELP HIM!"

     The SQUIP (as well as everyone else) is silent. The only thing Michael hears is a soft  _whirrrrr_ echoing around his head. After a beat too long, the computer finally speaks again.

     "I was going to continue if I was not interrupted,"

     "Bull- _fucking_ -shit,"

     If the SQUIP could leave, they would've done so in a metaphorical heartbeat. Since that isn't an option, they settle on rubbing their temples.

     "I never thought I would say this, but I prefer _Jeremy_ over your quips,"

     That gives Michael an accomplished smirk. At least, during this whole mess, he can count on the fact that he can tick off the SQUIP.

     "While I do not know the exact source of the issue, I just did a data scan of recent events. I can confirm that Jeremy and you have switched consciousnesses due to a minor SQUIP error,"

     The smirk is basically slapped off Michael's face. He turns to the group, not one of them aware of what was said.

     "Minor SQUIP error...," he repeats glumly.

     "Can I try and bitch-slap them now?" Jenna growls. (Getting an inaudible "Not nessecary" from the SQUIP).

      Christine bites her lip. "How do we fix it, though?"

     "I do not know,"

     "Oh, come  _on!_ " Michael stomps closer. _"_ You have to know  _something!_ We didn't summon your overrated iPhone ass for you to be all, 'I do not know'!" The SQUIP's mouth gapes open, flashing their pointy teeth.

     "...One moment, please," 

     They stare out, eyes seemingly glazed over. Michael begins to hear the whirring sounds again. He's about to crack another insult, but is immediately shut up by the SQUIP snapping back to reality.

     "I have but one troubleshooting suggestion. A full reboot could be helpful to fixing the issue,"

     Michael's eyebrows raise. "They're saying we could try a full reboot,"

     Rich scoffs in surprise, no longer trying to hide himself muching down on the chips. "All we're getting ith the equivalent of 'have you tried turning it off and back on'?!" The SQUIP shrugs to himself. "Mm, sad but true,"

    "Whatever, it's still an answer," Chloe says, trying to rope everyone back to the problem. "How do we reboot it?"

     "I am assuming you are well aware of the fact that Mountain Dew and Mountain Dew Red switch my assistance on and off. However, Mountain Dew Red does not turn my programming off. Technically speaking, I can never be turned off. Red is more of a... sleep mode," they explain, casually brushing dust off his clothes. "The closest thing a host can get to turning a SQUIP off is a reboot,"

     Michael crosses his arms. "That's  _nice._ But how do we reboot you?!"

     "I am  _getting_ to that, if you would just be patient," they spit. "Full reboot mode can only be achieved through a dosage of Mountain Dew Green, Red, and Halloween Edition Pitch Black," the SQUIP adjusts their outfit with disinterest.

     "You've gotta be shitting me," Michael facepalms.

     "My programming does not include an ability to be 'shitting' you,"

     An April shower had begun sometime during the SQUIP-ening, the low drone of the raindrops steadily taking over as the star ambiance of the room. 

     "Eight of us are still in the dark here," murmurs Brooke.

     "We need Halloween Edition Mountain Dew Pitch Black," he groans back.

     Jeremy arily laughs. "What's with SQUIPs and their ties to Mountain Dew?" The Bootleg Reeves would've been embarrassed by their eyes widening given the eight other people could see them.

     "... Unimportant. While we have the opportunity, I would like to discuss Jeremy's-"

     "Gonna stop you there, dude," Michael chuckles, regaining his cool-guy act. "We got the all troubleshooting tips we wanted. I'm done listening to you, SQUIPster," he pulls out the Mountain Dew Red and twists off the cap in record time.

     "Wait! There is one more-"

     "Bye, _bitch_!"

     Michael chugs the bottle. The SQUIP vanishes. A small pressure waves through his head, and the buzzing dies down. 

     The rain takes over again. Chloe is the only one who dares to move, tuning on a lamp to compemsate for the now lost daylight.

     "Mikey, is it gone?" Jeremy asks.

     "Yeah, man...," Michael replies and brushes a few bits of hair out of his vision. "What an asshole,"

      _Welcome to the SQUIP life,_ Rich thinks.

     Jeremy sighs and looks around the room. "Good... WHERE THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO GET HALLOWEEN EDITION PITCH BLACK MOUNTAIN DEW?!"

     "Calm your shit, already done," Jenna tosses her phone onto the couch. "The latest eBay can get it here is tomorrow, though," she sighs.

     She notices the room stare her down.

     "Consider it my apology for suggesting the SQUIP in the first place,"

     "It'th cool!" Rich grins as honestly as he can, patting her on the back. "We wouldn't have gotten thith far if ya didn't!" Jenna exchanges the gesture. Jeremy rubs this neck.

     "W-what're we gonna do in the meantime?" 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 100% believe Michael would pull out all of the Sass™ to try and up Sass™ the squip  
> \----------  
> A shorter, dialogue driven chapter before things HEAT TF UP (hehehehehehe)  
> \----------  
> This whole scene was a great practice with dialogue and trying my best to keep all NINE characters in this feeling alive. Tell me how I did???? ^-^  
> \----------  
> ((Remember when I said this was a rollercoaster? Keep that in mind lovelies))  
> \----------  
> I LOVE YOU A LOT thanks for still reading my bullshit???? hugs! critiques n questions are welcomed!


	8. Pillow Forts, Clingy Jeremy, and Toasts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad passes the time, Michael thinks into the darkness, and the morning comes.

* * *

**_CHAPTER EIGHT_**

* * *

    Almost immediately after the SQUIP's exit, Christine had talked everyone into a movie night to pass the time ("Classic sleepover style!"). The second it was suggested that they all sleep in the living room, every pillow and blanket Jake and Brooke could get their hands on were dragged out to build a makeshift pilllow fort. 

     "We're not _seven_ ," Chloe attests. "Come on Chlo, lighten up!" Jake says, reinforcing the first wall. Brooke nudges her, giving a small smirk, pillow in hand.

     "We can be the _queens_ of the fort," she sing-songs. Chloe rolls her eyes, but can't force herself to stop smiling or say no to Brooke's 'convincing evidence'.

     "As queen, I decree that you all have to clean it up in the morning," Chloe is entirely grinning now, picking up a sheet to begin building the roof. "Deal!" The rest of the room yells in unison.

     While the fort slowly became more and more elaborate, Jeremy stood off to the side, not knowing how to include himself. Seeing everyone so excited, so proud, so happy that they fixed  _his_ problem, made his aching feeling overcome any attempts to swat it away. 

     "Jere?" Michael had been helping pick out the movie before noticing Jeremy's face. He throws Christine the remote, jogging over to the other side of the room where Jeremy stands. "What's the matter?"

     "Nothing!" Jeremy answers too quickly for Michael's liking. He studies himself for a moment, glancing up in the process. Maybe it's just Michael, but he takes in how his eyes are easy to fill with worry. "I, uhm, hate that you're taller than me now," he jokes.

     "Other than that, dude!" Michael furrows his brows, placing a hand on his shoulder. After twelve years if friendship, it's really easy to read a lie on the other's face. However, that ability is entirely removed when your face is hidden behind your own. Michael had never realized how hard it was to read his face, a stark contrast to Jeremy. While everything else was easily hidden, anyone could tell if the taller boy was scared or worried.

     "I-I'm just... tired," Jeremy doesn't do a good job assuring Michael. Moving away from his touch only adds to the worry.

     Meanwhile, Jenna snaps a picture of the completed fort. It was pretty impressive (read: still standing upright), couch cushions being repurposed for walls and tacky throw blankets covering the top and sides. Rich already sits inside, fluffing up approximately twenty pillows. Under any other circumstances, Michael would've appreciated it a lot more. He's about to go admire it when he remembers that Jeremy's 'tired'. He settles for his best possible option: help Jeremy with whatever he says the problem is rather than obsess over what he's not telling him.

     Michael flops down onto the loveseat, the only seat still harboring its cushions. He pats the space beside him, a stolen bedsheet in hand. "Okay, go to sleep," That earns him a questioning glance from his buddy, who still stayed glued to his position.

     Chloe dims the lights as the TV begins to play some cheesy rom-com (the only movie Jenna and Rich could agree on). The dark atmosphere and hushed voices causing a true wave of fatigue to hit Jeremy. He reluctantly falls onto the loveseat, leaning against Michael and placing his cheek onto the red hoodie sleeve. Michael whinces, "Wait!"

     He pulls the glasses off Jeremy's face, gently tossing them over to the coffee table. Jeremy gives a soft "oh" and buries himself under the cover of the bedsheet.

     He falls asleep halfway through the opening credits.

* * *

      Opening credits become ending credits and the opening credits of a new film became ending credits again, the TV blaring an overused pop song as they roll. The room is even darker now, and unnaturally silent for the group of rowdy teenagers they are. A quick glance at the clock tells Michael that it's 1:46 AM.

      _Everyone else is probably asleep._

     He sighs, wishing he could move. Jeremy is still sleeping on his lap. His head is buried under Michael's arm, and resting on his thigh. It's not like they've never slept this close together before, but he can't help feeling a bit of intamacy this time. As to why, he wouldn't have been able to explain.  _Is he even comfortable?_ Michael wonders, leaning over just the tiniest bit to get a better look at Jeremy's face.

     He frowns when he only sees his own. Jeremy squirms a little with the sudden movement, pushing himself even further into his human pillow and almost _too far over_ his thigh. He feels himself heat up and scoot as subtly as he can to where Jeremy's head is  _entirely_ on his upper thigh. He wishes he didn't have to look down and see himself. He thinks about how much less  _awkward_ it would be if Jeremy was  _actually_ laying on him, not Jeremy with Michael's body.

      _Did I just think about how I want Jeremy to lay on me?_

He shakes the thought out of his mind and brings his attention back to Jeremy.

     Michael doesn't like watching himself sleep. It's weird _as balls,_  and isn't in the mood to find out if he'll drool again. His logical voice tells him that it's really Jeremy, but his other consciousness can't seem to hang onto that fact. He  _sees_ himself, all the while watching Jeremy's emotions and actions.  _That's bound to trip out your brain,_ he figures.  _It's just my brain tripping out._ Nonetheless, he still watches given he has nothing better to do, the ending credits of the movie wrapping up and switching to a guide menu.

"God, I look so tired," he mutters quietly to himself, running a hand through his hair.

     "Jeremy ithn' t looking too hot, either,"

      "GAH!" Michael almost falls out from under Jeremy at the the sudden voice.

     "Pipe it down! You're gonna wake the otherth,"  Rich whisper-yells from the pillow fort. Slowly, he emerges, sitting up on his elbows and looking out to Michael, each just barely able to make out the other's face in the darkness and huge mound of pillows blocking the view.

     "Are we the only ones up?" 

     "Lemme check," Rich quietly turns to Jake laying beside him, and grabs his arm to hold it a few inches in the air. He lets go, and Jake's arm falls back to the ground like a dead weight.

     "Yeah, everyone'th out," They fall into a casual silence, not knowing what to say. The rain that had roared on earlier dimmed back down to a hushed white noise. Michael falls back into thought, trying to remember another instance Jeremy had kept a secret. He can't. Well, he can, sort of, but _that_ wasn't really his fault. But now, with Jeremy damn near unreadable, he knew he was keeping something from him. Something inside him wants to shout, _"Why won't you tell me?! After twelve years you'd think someone would have more trust!"_ His better conscious shoos that part away for the most part, leaving it to linger in the back of his mind. Frowning  again at the unconscious lump, he breaks the silence before he can rethink his words.

     "I think I might be mad at Jeremy,"

     Rich perks up at this. The last time Michael got angry at Jeremy was at the Halloween party. This, however, was a different brand of angry. The angry you feel during a swirl of emotions, when you don't know  _how_ exactly to feel, upsetting you even more. A vicious cycle of anger, confusion, anger. Over and over until you are pushed past your breaking point.

     "Talk to him," the shorter boy says, reciveing a sarcastic look from Michael.

      _Gee, why haven't I thought of that?_

     "I'm theriouth," Rich almost sounds offended.  Michael glances away, trying to find anything else to lock his eyes onto other than the pitch blackness that drapes over anywhere the TV's light can't reach. His gaze eventually zeros in on his hands. Jeremy's hands.

     They're bigger than his, paler, and more dainty than one would expect from a seventeen year old. He picks at Jeremy's nails, well shortened from Jeremy's habit of biting them. In the sixth grade, Michael had tried to help him stop in every way he knew. Putting lemon juice on his nails just left Jeremy with a sour face all day, and painting them just made Jeremy pick the polish off before biting them. In an act of all or nothing, Michael had even forced band aids around each fingertip, but not even that worked. If anything, it had just made Jeremy more embarrassed. After that they both had stopped trying to fix it, letting it develop into one of Jeremy's many nervous ticks.

     "If you're not going to do it yourthelf, I'll make _thure_ you dorkth talk it out," Rich speaks into the darkness, knowing full well the other is awake. Michael dryly laughs at the determined statement.

      _The last thing I wanna do is talk it out,_ his brain assures him.  _If Jeremy doesn't trust me, so be it. My life is not dependant on him._ He knows he's lying to himself, but wants so desperately to make it true. Ever since they had met, Michael was attatched at Jeremy's hip. He didn't want to admit it, but when he was left alone, he was comepletely and utterly helpless (cue vicous anger, confusion, anger cycle).  _Scratch that: I can't be so dependant on him._

He looks back at Rich, who lays dormant (practically on top of Jake) with slow breathing and soft snores.

      _I'm just exhausted. Tomorrow, I'll be myself again and feel better,_ Michael assures himself.

     He dozes off while absentmindedly rubbing circles on Jeremy's hand.

* * *

     "GET UP, BOYS!" Christine barrels down the room, still in her pj's. She's jumping on top of the pillows covering the room, giggling and utilizing every obnoxious tactic she knows to wake them up. Clapping, shouting, singing, the whole nine yards.

     "RISE AND SHINE! THAT'S ENOUGH BEAUTY REST! UP, UP, UP!"

     "What?! Ugh, I need, like, ten more minutes of beauty rest," Jake is the first to startle awake, jumping up and knocking Rich off his back in the process.

     "Ow!" Rich muffles groggily from the ground.

     "It's, like, 8:30...," Jake complains, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Christine, proud of her work with the first two, bounds her way over to the last two members to wake up.

     They squirm around, Jeremy next to sit up. "Christine, _please_...," he begs, "not all of us have perfect sleep schedules,"

     "Not to mention it's Saturday," Michael yawns, handing Jeremy his glasses.

      "It's 8: _46,_ actually. And if you wanna just _ignore_ the Halloween Pitch-Black on the table...,"

     The teasing gets Jake and Rich up faster than they would on a school day. Michael tries to hop up as well, but is held down by something pulling at his waist.

     "Come  _on,_ Sleeping Beauty, you're to heavy for me to lug around right now," He tries to pry him off, but that only makes Jeremy hang on even tighter. Michael's face reddens as he speaks into his stomach.

      "No!" Jeremy whines, trying to hold onto Michael  _and_ keep the bedsheet over him. The effort causes Michael to fall further on the cushions, really wishing Jeremy's body was less weak.

     "Dude, get offa me! The Pitch-Black is here, don't you wanna go drink it?"

      "Nnnnno... But yeah...," he admits.

     "Then get your ass _up_!"

     After all but dragging Jeremy into the kitchen, the five are greeted my Chloe and Brooke chatting about nothing in particular at the table. Jenna is over by the stove, flipping what pancakes in sweatpants and a messy bun.

     Brooke takes a sip out of her mug as the five find their places around the table.

     "See? I told you Chris could get them up,"

     "Probably the whole neighborhood, too," Chloe chuckles. Christine shrugs at the comment, knowing how loud she can get.

    Jeremy, now somewhat with the living, widens his eyes at the cans of Pitch-Black. He gasps and goes to reach for one.

    "Slow down!" Jenna slaps his wrist, leaning over the table. She's holding a stack of pancakes, placing them in the center of the table. "Breakfast first!" 

     Jeremy looks up at her with distaste before slumping down on the table. He covers his face with his arms and mutters unintelligible protests. The only thing the group can decipher out of his rambles were a " _fuck_ ", " _dick_ ", and " _shit_ ".

     "Drama queen," Jenna giggles.

     "Jere isn't a morning person," Michael reaches for a pancake, ignoring his friend's attempts to grab onto him.

     "No shit, dude," Jake says. Michael laughs, trying to pull Jeremy upright.

   "Why don't you all try getting him up for school? Spoiler alert: actual hell," He jokes, earning a few laughs from the table.

* * *

      The table is cleared after a talkative breakfast (Jeremy becoming more or less awake by the time they were done eating).

     Jake brings the remaining bottles of Mountain Dew and Red to the table, immediately hushing the group.

     "What now, Mike?" Brooke asks, squirming in her seat.

     "We mix all three of these together and, uhm, drink it," He awkwardly chuckles at the simplicity of it all. It's done quietly and quickly. Soon both Michael and Jeremy have a glass of the concoction.

     "This is it!" Christine cheers, sharing haphazard smiles around the room. "Whelp!" She claps her hands together, "Any last words?" 

     Michael holds up his cup, smirking towards Jeremy. "Well, I'll toast to this by saying that if I had to switch bodies with someone, I would've picked you anyway!" he teases, holding Jeremy's cup as well and placing it into his hands. Jeremy grins, trying to copy Michael's suaveness.

     "And I, uh, want to thank you guys," He solemnly looks to the others surrounding him. "I-I don't deserve it, and you all just-" He cuts himself off, "-w-what Michael said, too," Chloe smiles.

     "We love you too," the others nod in agreement, on the edge of their seats. Rich, especially, looks like he's going to explode.

     "Yeah, yeah, we all love each other, QUIT THALLING AND _DRINK IT_!"

     Michael and Jeremy share one final look, syncing up their breath in order to keep themselves from hypreventalating. Jeremy eyes the cup, and pinches his nose. They both shut their eyes, as if being told by the same voice to close them.

     "Bottoms up," Michael deadpans with a weak laugh. 

     The drink tastes about as gross as they had expected, feeling grimy as it went down their throats. Each of them down the whole thing in one go, not daring open their eyes until they feel something,  _anything,_ telling them it's switching them back. Jeremy can almost feel time slow as he waits.

      They wait for about thirty seconds, but it seems like forever.

      Michael shuts his eyes tighter, begging whatever higher power out there to  _hurry it up._ He counts the ticking seconds pass.

      _One, two..._

He doesn't feel any different.

      _nineteen, twenty..._

He hears Jeremy choke back a sob. Michael feels like he's suffocating.

       _thirty-nine, forty..._

Michael can't take it anymore. He opens his eyes, light floods his pupils before he can focus on the others, standing like statues in shock. 

     He turns to see Jeremy.

     He only sees himself, tears filling his eyes.

      _It didn't work._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on how I space dialogue (I tend to write a lot of dialogue even though I feel like it's a weakness of mine) so tell me how I did ^-^  
> \----------  
> I used to have an issue with biting my nails (still kinda do) and those are all things I've tried tbh. Only the band aid thing worked lol  
> \----------  
> Critiques welcome!  
> \----------  
> I LOVE YOU A LOT!!!!!! thanks for reading my bullshit ^-^


	9. Bathrooms, Breakdowns, and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Jeremy in the bathroom, featuring Michael trying to piece together his feelings.

* * *

_**CHAPTER NINE** _

* * *

     _Shit._

For a good minute, no one had risked moving or shattering the silence. The absence if noise itself is deafening, pushing the teens` spirits back down to zero.

     It`s too much for Jeremy.

     He bolts out of the room, his chair clattering to the ground, causing everyone to jump. He's trying to hide sniffles as he frantically stumbles down the hall.

     Michael isn`t far behind, dropping his glass to the floor, breaking into a million pieces upon hitting the tile.

     " _Ugh_ , Jeremy!" He calls after him, running off as well.

     The other six are left to stand in the kitchen, still glued to their seats. Christine starts to get up, but Chloe stops her, shaking her head.

     "Let's... let  _them_ work it out. We- uhm, we can plan something from there,"

* * *

 

     Micheal twists his head between the two pathways of the hall, and decides to run down the one he hears a muffled cry escape from. Eventually, the sounds lead him to Chloe`s guest bathroom. Jeremy must`ve been in one hell of a rush, because he forgets to lock the door.

     "...Jere?" Michael pushes the door ajar, just barely peering in.

     Jeremy curls up into himself, trying as hard as he can to keep quiet. The shower curtain provides a great cover from Michael`s view. Jeremy shudders when he can practically feel his brain going a thousand miles a minute. He wants to do nothing more than disappear.

     Chloe made them admit their issues to their friends. Rich helped prove their point. Christine was the group cheerleader, caring so deeply about everyone`s happiness and well-being. Jenna suggested the SQUIP and ordered the Mountain Dew Pitch-Black. Jake convinced the SQUIP to give them answers, claiming it fell under their instructions to 'better Jeremy`s life'. Brooke was subtler in her efforts, but offered her car as a way to get the Mountain Dew and kept Chloe from bossing them all to hell last night. And Michael. Michael was so understanding, and put up with Jeremy`s anxious ticks and overblown worries.

     What did Jeremy do?

      _Michael didn`t deserve any of this. Michael didn`t deserve to be thrown out of my life. Michael didn`t deserve to be left in the-_

     Jeremy hasn`t cried yet, not willing to let himself. He holds back his tears, staring down at the porcelain white of the bathtub clashing against the darker caramel of Michael`s skin. _Is this how Michael felt?_   Such broken, confused anger melting into sadness and aching. 

     "Jeremy, get outta the tub," Michael speaks into the bathroom. At first, Jeremy thinks its his own conscience, telling him what he should be doing. He doesn`t want to get out of the tub. He wants to sit there for eternity and die there. But Michael clearly wants him to come out and face the music.  _Michael doesn`t deserve to be stuck dealing with me._

      So he stands. Jeremy slowly opens up the shower curtain and steps out, eyes still bloodshot from keeping any and all tears behind his eyelids. Michael is leaning against the counter, having closed and locked the door behind him. Michael holds out his arms, a weak smile etching its way onto his face. It`s quickly overcome, though, and falters apon taking in Jeremy`s appearance. Jeremy can`t swallow the sob that rips through his throat.

      _I`ve broken him. I don`t deserve Michael._

He trips forward, accepting Michael`s embrace, sobbing the whole way to the ground. Michael falls over with him, sitting on his knees and holding Jeremy even tighter. Michael himself falls onto Jeremy`s shoulder, a few tears escaping his own tightly shut eyes.

     "I`m sorry," he whispers into Jeremy`s ear. He gets a small gasp in response. Jeremy cries even harder, trying to form a tangible sentence between his hiccups and tears.

     "You- s-shouldn`t- be," his shoulders heave with every syllable.  "I-It`s- my- f-fault!" He wails. Michael`s about to shush him and tell him he`s wrong, but he says one last thing before losing himself to his bawling.

     "I-I sh-should- have- n-never- g-gotten- the SQ-SQUIP!"

     Michael is stunned, not knowing what to say. Mainly because...  _he`s right._ That thing is the source of everything, simply put. He can`t argue without sounding like he`s undermining Jeremy`s mistake. So, instead of arguing, he holds Jeremy even tighter, letting him holler and cry as long as he needs. Michael thinks about how badly he wanted to cry into Jeremy`s shoulder at the Halloween party. Now, he feels an odd sense of comfort.   _Maybe I shouldn`t rely on Jeremy as much as I do, but it`s good to think he relies on me, too._ Jeremy`s hysterical crying is now reduced to sniffles and grunts. Michael feels it best not to speak, only utilizing himself by holding onto Jeremy. 

     "I miss you,"

     Only then does Michael loosen his grip, confused by the statement. "I`m right here, man," his voice is hoarser than anticipated.

     "I can`t see you," Jeremy whispers. Michael leans back even more, breaking away from the hug. He`s looking into his own eyes, despite how badly he hurts to want Jeremy's look back at him.

     "I miss you, too," Now it's Michael's turn to keep himself from crying. "C-come on,"

     Holding onto one another, they reluctantly stand, but that's all the movement they could take at that moment. Jeremy wraps his arms around Michael's waist, thinking about how _it's not really Michael's waist,_ which makes him sniffle a little harder. Michael lets his attention dance around the room, trying to regain some composure. He's doing a pretty good job, until he catches a glimpse of his refection in the mirror.

     His brain interprets it as a picturesque image, like his looking at a huge, abandoned Polaroid.

     He sees his own back facing the mirror, body writhing with every gasp for air. His chin rests in the crook of Jeremy's neck and shoulder, just tall enough for him. The perfect spot to lose himself in. His arms are squeezing the space barely above Jeremy's hips. Jeremy looks directly into the space where the camera would be, his thin arms loosely wrapped around Michael. Michael studies the boy's face, and he comes to the conclusion that he is completely and utterly crushed. His mouth gapes open a little, like he's surprised of what he's seeing. His pale complexion is covered in snot and tears, eyes huge and threatening to spill more. His cheeks are flushed and tear-streaked.

     Michael's gut feels like it's doing somersaults when he revisits Jeremy's eyes. He'd never noticed how _beautiful_ they were, always full of emotion and a good telling factor in analyzing what's he's thinking. How they always glance away when Jeremy second guesses himself, or puts himself down.

      _What I wouldn't give to see those eyes happy again._

When he was left in the bathroom five months ago, Michael had an epiphany realizing how much he loved being with his best friend. He realized how much he needed to see him. How much he needed to feel his touch. How much he loved him.

     Michael Mell realized how much he truely loved Jeremy Heere.

      Ever since, he'd practically forgotten this, dismissing it as platonic affection once they had made amends. He sighs, feeling dumb now.

      _It took swapping bodies and crying in a bathroom again to realize that I love Jeremy Heere._

     He blinks, casting himself out of the trance he was in so he could get to the issue at hand: his own body still holding on for dear life around him. Michael takes a step back, Jeremy not quite ready to let go, he begins to stumble out a protest, but is calmed once Michael keeps his hands in his own, rubbing small circles with his thumb on the back of Jeremy's hand.

     "I screwed us both up," Jeremy's voice is weak, but every word is fueled by cruel meaning. 

    "Jeremy, I-,"

    "No!" he snaps, straining his voice even more."What have I done to deserve everyone's friendship? Wh-What have I done to deserve their help? What ha-have I-I done..." He trails off, his words becoming laced with squeaking sounds and air. "-to deserve  _you?_ " Michael furrows his brows, every fiber in his being doubting Jeremy's words. He tries to speak gently, without upsetting his friend any more than he needed to.

     "Jere, listen to me, you-"

     "Listen to  _me!_ " Jeremy hollers, cutting him off, "I shouldn't be forgiven, I-"

     "JEREMY!" Michael doesn't understand how their tired, well-worn voices could stand a yelling match, but he won't stop to question it. The yelp shuts Jeremy up, however not stopping him from glaring down and making a few more disgruntled noises.

     Jeremy wants to see Michael again. Michael wants to see Jeremy. They want to escape this hell of a nightmare. 

     Michael doesn't get much further in his rant, thanks to his mind supplying him with a million different voices.

      _Slap him, scream, run out of there..._

    "I wanna, I-I need, I wish, ugh, this is awkward, I-" is all he manages to choke out. He needs Jeremy to know he's  _loved._ Sure, he made a mistake, and a really shitty one at that. But he's still a  _person._ When he's not obsessing over how others view him, Jeremy can be funny, smart, and shamelessly kind.  _This_ is the Jeremy Michael knew and wanted back. The Jeremy before him is brokenhearted, won't let Michael explain and doesn't look like himself in the slightest.

    His head is pounding, already cursing himself for what he's thinking about doing.

     Michael ubruptly strides forward, pushing himself way beyond "personal space", their chests brushing against each other. He observes his face, cringing a little being so close to his own skin.

      _I hate my face, but I love the Jeremy trapped behind it._

     Jeremy gulps, tracking Michael's every move with wide eyes. His cheeks are pushing the blushing limits of what Michael's face can handle. Michael feels like his about to faint when he closes his eyes and brings their noses together. He wanted to wait until they were back to normal, but he figures desperate times call for desperate measures.

     He puts his hands behind Jeremy's head and slams their faces into each other, causing the smaller boy to hum in surprise.

      _Michael is kissing me._

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***IMPORTANT FCKING QUESTION AAAA!!!!!!***  
>  After I wrap up this story, I would like to take a week or two to relax and outline my next big multi-chapter fic.  
> HOWEVER, I still wanna do something during that time and would like to know:  
>  **Would anyone be interested in seeing a BMC one-shot/short story collection?**
> 
> It would be like 90% requests, but I might throw in my own ideas if I feel like it.
> 
> if u can, tell me what you think? pwease?   
> \----------  
> Sorry about that lol I just really wanna know and I'm awkward and suck at asking things....... and idk how many of u read my notes and jwjqjfjakdbb  
> \----------  
> Looks like I'm almost done.... Thanks for reading my bullshit for so long?????? Its so surprising to me tbh!!!!  
> \----------  
> I LOVE YOU and have a nice life ^-^


	10. Kisses, Reboots, and Epilogues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Jeremy share some romantic moments, and their story comes to a close.

* * *

**_CHAPTER TEN_ **

* * *

  It`s abrupt, messy, and sloppy, but, hey, at least Michael could say there was  _passion_.

     He slams his lips into Jeremy`s, sure to keep his eyes closed because  _God, he really doesn`t feel like seeing his own shocked face,_ and gives it all he`s got. Which, considering the fact this was his first kiss ( _Not how I had seen it go down_ ), wasn`t much. He tilts his head once he figures out that he`s got to avoid the glasses digging uncomfortably into his skin. Jeremy isn`t moving away, so he considers it a good sign and tries to move his lips gentler, as if to not scare him away. He hopes that Jeremy can`t feel his heart beating out of his chest as he keeps kissing in a rush of nerve-wracking emotion.

     Meanwhile, Jeremy stands like a deer in the headlights. Surprised, but  _definitely_ not disgusted. _Far from it, in fact._   Admittedly, he would have been able to enjoy it a lot more if he was actually breathing or not on the verge of a heart attack.

 _Michael Mell is kissing me._

_AND I`M JUST STANDING HERE LIKE AN IDIOT!_

_Move, move, do SOMETHING!_

     Jeremy makes himself to lean closer into Michael, tightly shutting his eyes and hurriedly kisses Michael back. He hears Michael squeak a bit in surprise when he tries to bite his bottom lip, (something he had remembered Chloe doing at the Halloween party.  _This is fine, right? Yeah, this is how you do it?_ ).

     Michael breaks away first, gasping for air. He`s flushed, and makes sure to keep his vision glued to the pristine tile of the bathroom. Eventually, the two`s hands intertwine with each other, Michael smoothing over the other`s goosebumps. For once, Jeremy forgets about how he royally fucked up. He forgets about all the things he doesn`t believe he deserves. For once, Jeremy isn`t scared to blindly reach into the air ( _It`s less weird if I keep sight out of it_ ) to find Michael`s face to yank him into another kiss after he catches his own breath. In those lingering seconds, he can only think about Michael.

     Michael`s thinking about Jeremy, too, completely engulfing himself in his connection.

     Still miserably awkward, but they were starting to get the hang of it.

     Until an all-too familiar voice slices through Michael`s brain.

     " _Neural Access Port Found. Full Reboot Calibration in Process_ ,"

     Simultaneously, Jeremy and Michael writhe in pain from the fire that tears across their minds and bodies. A searing pulse of electricity shoots between them, violently ripping them apart and slamming onto the ground once more. Michael, in an act of impulse, tries to grab on to some towels hanging from a nearby rack to no avail. Neither realize the shrieking sounds they create until they are responded with the banging and hysterical voices coming from the other side of the locked door. Jeremy forces his body to crawl over to the door. Every muscle of his body is in agony. He`s just two feet from the door, he`s  _so close, so fucking close._

     His arm is quaking and almost uncontrollable trying to reach the doorknob, his fingers barely brushing against the lock.

     " _Please excuse some mild discomfort_ ," 

     Another jolt of pain is sent through his body, causing whatever height he had gained before to drop back to nothing.

      _I have to unlock that door._

     Jeremy tries once more, ignoring the crippling pain as best he can. He strains every fiber of his arm, fingers gently pressing against the lock now.  _Just... a little... further..._

     " _Temporary Shut-Down Mode engaged. Next Start-Up time undetermined_ ,"

     Wave of pain number three arrives. Jeremy yelps in distress as he flails his hand as close to the lock as he can. _Somehow,_ he manages to unlock the door in his final seconds of consciousness.  Michael sounds like he`s crying as Jeremy crashes onto himself. Everything he sees is blurry and distorted, barely making out the feet of the others crowding him.

     He blacks out entirely when Rich picks him up off the bathroom floor, dragging him to God knows where.

* * *

 

      _"-eremy?...Jeremy?...JEREMY!"_

     He tries to open his eyes, but all he can see is an endless, inky black. Someone is calling his name, but he can`t piece together who.

      _" He`s waking up! Guys!"_  

     Jeremy feels himself stretch out, trying to wake up his muscles in a groggy state of perplexity. Opening his eyes just causes him to squeeze them shut again once blinding light pours into his dilated pupils. He`s reduced to short, squinting blinks until his eyes adjust.

     "Hey!" a silhouette calls from beside him. Upon closer inspection, he can see Christine, giddy and using all of her power to keep herself from squealing with delight. Brooke runs in beside her, holding a glass of water. "How`re ya feelin?"

     "L-like my-" he gasps in shock. His _voice_. There`s something different about his voice. "b-brain... is... buzzing a lo-ot...," Jeremy makes a point of dragging out every vowel to listen to his voice.  _His voice. Jeremy Heere`s voice coming from Jeremy Heere`s thoughts once again._

     "I-is...?" he trails off, swinging himself up from the comfy bed he`d waken up on. His head swirls at the sudden motion, making the buzzing intensify for a few seconds before dying back down to a tolerable level. Rich leans against the doorway ( _still in pajamas?_ ) smirking when his eyes meet up with Jeremy.

     "Thee for yourthelf, dude!"

     Choking out a half-exasperated, half-overjoyed noise, Jeremy stumbles into the bathroom he had passed out in earlier. 

     He looks into the mirror, almost vibrating in place with premature excitement.

     He looks like a mess.

     He looks exhausted, with baggy eyes lined with dark circles that could rival that of a raccoon's.

     He looks pale, sweaty, and in huge need of a long shower.

     Most importantly, he looks like Jeremy  _fucking_ Heere. He laughs, a feeling he's long missed. He feels his hair,  _his_ hair, back on his own head. Later, Jeremy would claim his elated shrieks and giggles were a lot more manly than they actually were.

     Christine invites herself into the bathroom upon hearing this, tackling Jeremy into a thrilled hug, bouncing him along with her around the room. (Christine notes how  _un-_ manly they sound, hopping around the room together like tween girls at a boy band concert.)

     "Thank Christ you're up," a new, stern voice joins the room. "You've been out since yesterday morning when we dragged you out of the bathroom. I had to stop Rich from planning a funeral for you two!" Chloe rants, but eases her guard when Jeremy gives her a warm smile. "At least you're okay now,"

     That's right. Everything was okay now. Jeremy was back in his body. Michael-

      _Oh god._

_MICHAEL!_

"W-where's Mikey?" Jeremy's face goes from one end of the spectrum to the other faster than anyone could imagine, mouth pressed into a thin line of concern.

     "Calm down, he's in the guest room with Jake and Jenna. They're trying to wake him up, too," Brooke is striding into the hall now, rubbing Chloe's back with an optimistic hum.

     "H-he's not up yet?" 

     Only Christine had the brilliant idea of moving out of the way just before Jeremy makes a wild dash to the guest room, nearly knocking over Chloe and Brooke in the process. He gets two frustrated _HEY!_ 's but doesn't even register them into his mind.

     After chrashing in, Jake gives a grin and blurts, "You're awake! Man, you look like a me-," Jenna cuts him off with an elbow and a firm head shake. Jake backtracks, trying to keep Jeremy's spirits up. "-GREAT! You look great, I mean!"

     Jeremy would explain how _Y_ _es, I've already seen that I'm a wreak but you can't really blame me,_ but his intentions are shattered when he hears Michael roll over onto his back, moaning a little when the bright sunrise burns his retinas.

      _His_ back.

      _His_ retinas.

      _His_ body.

     Running to the side of the bed, he leans over the sheets and shakes Michael awake, speeding up the process.

     "Mikey!" Jeremy whispers, pushing his shoulders around even more until Michael's eyes widen enough to take in the ceiling above them.

     "Huh?" Michael's voice is soft, scratchy, and worn from screaming. Jeremy considers either crying or hysterically laughing, ultimately swallowing the impulse to give his friend some quiet. Michael`s gaze darts around the bland, undecorated room, stiffly landing on Jeremy.

      _Jeremy._

_Jeremy is Jeremy._

_JEREMY IS JEREMY!_

     "Did-?!" Michael darts up out of his laying position, wincing a little when it causes a blood rush to his head. He doesn`t care. All he cares about is the high-like sensation of pure happiness coursing through his veins. Snapping his attention down to himself, he sees what`s there. Sure enough, he sees his clothes (save for the cardigan draped around him), his skin, _his_ body. He moves himself over to hang his legs over the side of the bed, looking up at Jeremy with wide eyes. The taller boy lets out a weak laugh, a single tear sliding down his cheek, juxtaposing against the huge smile plastered on his face. Michael wants to brush it off, but can practically feel the six other teen`s stare piercing through them. Instead, he chuckles a bit and speaks quietly and deliberately.

     "I missed you," every word is laced with sincerity. It felt _damn fantastic_ to look at your best friend whom you love dearly and not see your own face in a cruel third-person.

     Jeremy`s gut is filled with butterflies ( _S_ _o it wasn`t just Michael, huh_ ), buzzing with delight.

     Or, rather, buzzing with SQUIP technology. 

      _"Start-Up Engaged. Standby for Visual Output,_ " Keanu Reeves` voice echos inside his brain, Jeremy rolling his eyes in annoyance. He`s only more annoyed when he watches the SQUIP materialize next to Michael on the comforter, crossing their legs and absentmindedly picking at their cuticles.

     "I see you have corrected the issue," they state, not even giving Jeremy the time of day to look at his deadpan expression. "I would like to point out, however, that you would have gotten it corrected approximately sixty-four percent sooner if Michael cared enough to hear the rest of my instructions. See, in order to attempt a reboot, I needed access to _your_ neural data from Michael`s body. Maybe if you had half a brain to-,"

     "Alright, I`m done with you," Jeremy snaps to the empty air beside his friend. Michael looks concerned as hell, to Jeremy`s embarrassment. "N-not you!" he assures him, "SQUIP," to be responded with a knowing nod from Michael and a scoff from the SQUIP.

     "You know, Jeremy, my data shows that-"

     "Get me some Red, please!" Jeremy shouts to no one in particular. Rich sprints into the kitchen with a salute.

     "And, Jere?" Michael peers deep into Jeremy's eyes, over the moon to see them once again.

     "Y-yeah?"

     "Gimme back my fuckin' hoodie,"

* * *

  ** _EPILOGUE: ONE WEEK LATER_**

* * *

      "I miss the rain..." Jeremy speaks into the dimly lit basement. Michael only hums in agreement. The space is safe, cozy and quiet, except for the usual noises coming from their latest level of Apocalypse of the Damned. He leans back into the well-worn (and basically tattered, despite neither boy wanting to admit it) galaxy themed beanbag. The whole basement served as a second bedroom and mini-apartment of some kind, considering they spend every other night just like this one: relaxing, shooting the shit, and kicking virtual zombie ass. It was starting to get late, even for them. 

     In a sleep-deprived flurry of thoughts, Jeremy`s mind wanders to the events of last week. More specifically, last Saturday in Chloe`s guest bathroom. It was as though each teen was waiting for the other to bring it up, putting them in a conversational stalemate. He thinks about how that feeling in his gut hasn`t gone away, dancing around the possible reasons for the ache. The last time he had felt like this was when he was obsessed with Christine. Only now it was a million times stronger, stopping him from doing much more than try to keep it compressed in the back of this thoughts and stomach. He thinks about how it had only disappeared temporarily when-

     "Dude?" Jeremy disrupts the silence again, pausing their game just as they`re about to uncover the stage`s final boss. Michael yawns and blinks the TV`s light out of his focus, replacing it with Jeremy`s quickly reddening face.

     "Yeah?" Michael is suspicious, slow to place his controller down and turn his body to face his friend as well. Jeremy tries to continue, piecing together what he wants to say. Problem is, he doesn`t _know_ what he wants to say.  He knows what he`s thinking, but has no idea on how to articulate it.  Breath hitching, he slides his socked feet around the wooden floor, trying to distract himself from hyperventilating. Michael is about to say some sort of comfort Jeremy isn't in the mood to hear. To stop him, Jeremy blurts the first thought that comes to his racing mind.

     "I-I wanna k-kiss you again?!" he all but shouts, immediately hating himself for saying it (and hating himself twice as much for the voice crack) . Michael stares him down, blank face and mouth agape.

     "S-sorry!" Jeremy is _actually_ shouting now, jumping up from the beanbag in an attempt to leave. He`s yanked back down by Michael gripping his shoulders.

     "No!" Michael has regained his ability to speak, already blushing a little himself.  "Don`t be. It`s just-" the rest of his argument is flustered grumbles, ultimately pulling Jeremy closer. "I...thought you`d never ask," 

     It was true. Michael wasn`t even sure he had remembered. Michael didn`t remember getting shocked the other day, who`s to say Jeremy couldn`t lose the memory of their kiss in the bathroom? Nonetheless, he had remembered, causing a confusing duo of waves to fall onto the smaller teen, one of joy and another of disbelief. Knowing his face all too well, Jeremy leans into Michael`s face, sharing their oxygen for the third time that week. He gulps, breath quivering from teenage hormones and adrenaline.

     "I wanna kiss your face for real this time," he says in one breath, using surprisingly little effort. Michael can already feel himself warm up with Jeremy`s to-the-point briefness. Jeremy, slowly brushing his lips against Michael`s, is beyond saving when it comes to the bright blush exploding across his face. Michael smirks.

     "Fine by me,"

     Michael pushed himself forward to complete the connection, melting into the kiss.

* * *

 ♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Martha Dunstock voice* What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending!!
> 
> AAAA I CAN'T BELIVE I FINSISHED THIS??!?!?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with it for so long! I'm honestly so fukcign shocked by how positive the responses are????? u all give me minimal anxiety ♡
> 
> (That being said, please critique me! I really want to make sure everything I do is better than the last thing in some way, and I think its a good sign I'm already noticing some flaws in this one! ^-^)  
> \----------  
> I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
> \----------
> 
> it's official! Next up are some bmc one shots n short stories!
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> YO:  
>  If you'd like, you can put a request for the first one in the comments for this update?!!??!? **


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